Shades of Sharp
by lucablue
Summary: Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street…then their worlds collide. An AU fic where Sam and Dean aren't brothers.  Warnings: Eventual Sam/Dean, Prostitution, Rape, Angst, Explicit Content,
1. Chapter 1

**Rating**: NC17

**Warnings**: **Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst**,

Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!

**Summary**: Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street…then their worlds collide.

**Chapter 1**

He couldn't stop smiling and he was so excited as he saw the light of the candles when his mom carried out the brightly decorated cake. There were ten candles on the cake and as his mom got closer his brother and sister, one on either side of him started singing Happy Birthday loudly and very badly out of key. He didn't care and in fact started laughing harder when his parents joined in as the glowing cake was placed in front of him.

"Here, you can cut the cake with this and then it's yours to keep. It's just like mine Sammy, 'cept it's got your name." His older brother handed him a shiny pocketknife, a grin plastered on his face.

"Really?" His eyes opened in awe as he looked up at the taller boy. "Thanks Jacob, wow."

In his excitement as he moved to make a wish, his finger grazed a candle and red wax spilt over his hand. The shock against his skin made him cry out and jerk his hand back and into another flame, burning the skin on the back of his hand.

"Ssshhh baby, it's okay." His mother kissed the back of his hand and then his forehead before she drew him in for a hug and whispered in his ear. "Love on my lips fixes everything remember."

He giggled at her words as they brought back memories of skinned knees and bruises that were always soothed this way. Soft hand across his forehead and something cold on the burn, fingers cupping his face and wiping the tears away.

He's pretty sure this is the last time he remembers happy and safe. Definitely the last time he remembered being kissed with so much love.

Time might heal all wounds and dull the pain but sometimes it seems to sharpen the memory of what we miss most.

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn_

Sam ignores the concrete biting into his knees, even as the coldness seeps through his thin jeans and the ache spreads up his thighs. His hands move rough and firm, kneading and rubbing the flesh in his hands in time with the cock thrusting in and out of his mouth. The man standing over him grabs his hair harder and pushes his face almost flush against his groin but Sam doesn't fight it.

The move is expected just like the hot cum that suddenly fills his mouth before he swallows it down, cheeks hollowing out as he sucks the last drops. With a final grunt the cock is pulled from his mouth and Sam sits back on his haunches waiting, watching. This is the part he is wary about, sometimes they just leave but sometimes they want to rough him up, feel him. Hurt him.

"Stand up."

Sam stood, head slightly tilted to the side, eyes diverted as he wipes a hand across his mouth. He knows its best to just wait, keep his mouth shut until he works out their game.

A hand on his soft cock, pressing down through the denim and another one feeling up under his t-shirt. "Wanna fuck you next time. How much?"

He leaned seductively into the touch, playing the game, moaning a little as he rubbed against the contact. "Eighty. One fifty if you want half an hour or want it rough. I don't kiss."

"Yeah, yeah one fifty. You know the Motor Palms Hotel, Chapel Street?"

"Yeah."

"Room sixteen at ten tomorrow night. If you play nice I might keep you for an hour."

Sam nodded, nostrils flaring as the hand squeezed his nipple hard, fingernails pressing into his flesh. "We'll see how good you are at this." The man watched Sam's face tighten as he pulled viciously on the hardened nub and smiled when the boy made no sound.

Breathing hard, Sam leaned back against the building that ran along the alley and watched as the man walked off.

He hadn't seen this guy around before but tricks came and went and he didn't waste too much thought on it. If he could manage to earn three hundred in an hour it would be worth it but there was always a catch, and it would be just his luck if this was some sick fucker or worse if the jerk changed his mind.

Sam started walking back along the alley and out onto the main street, head down and hands in his pockets as he wondered how Emmett was doing. He knew it was after three am, most clubs had shut along the main strip and those people that were around were too drunk or already hooked up, neither much use to him. The kid should be back at the Pitt before him but just like always he wouldn't relax until he saw him with his own eyes.

Next block along he turned into a laneway and then cut across a grass verge lined with rubbish bins from the adjacent tenements before turning another corner onto Pitting Road. Home.

It was a lot darker here, a lot more isolated, mainly due to the fact that half of the buildings up this end of the road were vacant, partially destroyed or in disrepair. It still amazed him that the difference between the bright clean lights and the forgotten slums of the town was a ten minute walk. Dirty secrets hidden in plain sight because those that didn't want to see, didn't really look too hard.

He walked to a single storey building but bypassed the boarded up front door and windows, instead walking a well worn path to the rear of the dwelling. Pushing aside the rotting flyscreen door that had long ago outlived its purpose, he turned the doorknob of the wood paneled door and lifted it up at the same time to minimise the harsh scrape against the floor.

Giving his eyes a second to adjust to the dusty darkness that always seemed suffocating after coming in from the night air Sam tilted his head and listened. The muffled sounds and soft voices told him all was normal, as normal as it got he reminded himself as he passed two girls sitting cross legged on the floor sharing a joint.

"Hey Crystal." He watched as the girl lifted her head and squinted her eyes, all slow movements and pinprick pupils.

"Hey baby, wanna sit with us? This here's Kandy with a K." She giggled. "S'my new best friend. Kandy this is Sam."

"Hi Sammy, here have a drag, we won't bite ya."

"It's Sam. Nah, I'm beat. Crystal you seen Emmett?"

"Yeah your boy's already home, probably asleep by now. Don't mind him Kandy honey, Sam doesn't do the drug thing. He's gonna get himself outta here one day."

"Huh well that'll be a first if he's still breathing." Kandy inahaled deeply. "I'm pretty sure the only way out of here is in a body bag."

Both girls collapsed in a fit of laughter but he understood. Crystal had been here as long as he had but most of her cash went towards her next hit, her coping mechanism. He hated the fact that she was killing herself but he didn't blame her. She wouldn't be the first person he found dead one day, this kind of life killed you young. Killed you hard.

Sam kept moving through the house, avoiding eyes and rooms, blocking out the sounds as he continued to the bedroom on the far side. His room, their room. He stood in the doorway and could barely make out the crumpled shape on the floor as he shucked his t-shirt and shoes and socks off and walked over. He always slept in jeans, it was harder to get raped while you slept, gave you half a chance at least.

Sitting down cross legged he stretched his neck back and sighed as he tried to let the tension and fears go for another night, another day they had survived. It was getting harder to find the strength to keep doing this but he knew he had to, for Emmett's sake.

"Sam?"

The voice in the darkness so young and always so unsure, and Sam closed his eyes against the tears that sprung up unbidden and unwanted behind his eyelids. He couldn't afford to cry, it didn't change anything, didn't make this go away.

"Yeah Emm just me. You okay?"

A pause. "Yeah."

"What is it, what's wrong?" Sam moved closer to the boy beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Emmett?"

"Someone was killed, over on Maple and you sometimes …and…I thought…I didn't know…"

Sam felt the tremble under his hand and heard the sobs, knew the kid wouldn't ask for comfort. He was only fourteen but stubborn, strong. Just a fucking kid for God's sake.

'S'okay wasn't me. C'mere." Sam pulled the boy over into his arms, let his head rest against his chest. He kissed the boy's forehead, trying to ignore the ache in his own heart. "Remember Emm, I'm gonna look after you, make sure you get home soon."

"And…and I'm gonna look after you Sam."

"Yeah kiddo, I know. Go to sleep." Sam wrapped both arms around the boy on his chest, the only reason he pushed himself to keep going. "I've gotcha now, go to sleep."

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn_


	2. Chapter 2

**Rating**: NC17  
**Summary**: Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street…then their worlds collide.

Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!

**Warnings**: **Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst, Explicit Content**

**Okay so you don't like explicit?...then don't read this...simple!**

**Chapter 2**

Sam stood with his back pressed to the bricks as the guy approached, he was tired already and it was only just after nine. He'd only had two clients and this one might be his last before he walked over to the Palms.

He lifted his chin as the stocky guy approached. "You interested in the best blow of your life?"

"How much?"

"Forty."

"Nah I wanna fuck you ass boy. How much?"

Sam hesitated like he always did but his mouth eventually switched to automatic. Even after all this time he hated it but then sometimes, hell most of the time, you didn't get a choice because it was all about survival. Now he had even more incentive. "Eighty."

Sam flinched as he was pushed hard against the bricks as stocky pressed himself up close. "Now baby, let's go."

"Money first." Sam was a lot of things but he wasn't stupid.

Putting the cash in his pocket, Sam indicated with his head down the alley and stocky didn't waste any time moving them along, one hand around Sam's waist the other rubbing his own crotch. Sam led them around the dumpsters and unfastened his jeans, slowly pushing them down to his ankles before he turned and braced himself on the dumpster and spread his legs.

He tried to ignore the usual comments, tried to go somewhere else, anywhere other than where he was. His mind wandered to Emmett and how this was for him, how this would help save him from this life but it was hard to ignore the fingers poking into his hole then the cock that was rammed into his ass. It was hard to distract himself from the hand that roamed his body and the teeth that bit into his skin because it wasn't anything he wanted, it wasn't anything that he could really pretend wasn't happening.

Sam could feel the stocky guy getting close as he rammed his dick faster and harder, gripping his thighs like they were unbreakable. Sam grunted from the pain as his throat was suddenly gripped and squeezed and he couldn't speak, couldn't protest as panic rose up in his chest.

'Baby so tight, so fucking tight, oh yeah." In his ear fading in and out as he tried to breathe. "Oh yeah, oh God baby, oh yeah."

Hot cum inside him and suddenly he was gasping lungfuls of air, white spots in his vision and it was over as suddenly as it started. Cock pulled out of him and body pushed aside as the john tucked himself back in and walked away, back to the streetlights.

Sam leaned on his arms, fetid smells from the dumpster rising up in his nostrils but not enough to distract himself from the worthlessness of how he felt. He cleaned himself up with the tissues in his pocket and fastened his jeans before he shut down again, pushed his self loathing aside and got on with it. In this line of work there wasn't much time for the luxury of emotion.

If you couldn't shut it down yourself then you found some drug that would do it for you. If you felt too much it would kill you anyway, or get you killed.

Sometimes it was hard to know which option to take.

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He was about five minutes early but he figured it was worth it to make sure the guy didn't start looking for a replacement. Sam knocked on the door and didn't have to wait long before the trick opened the door and waved in him. The guy was tall and not unattractive, his shirt was off and Sam could see he obviously worked out.

"Where do you want me?"

"Well straight down to business I like that."

Sam didn't reply, he wasn't up for the small talk and he was always a little more nervous doing a call out than he was just working the street. It had been over a year since he had done this and the last time it had gone badly.

"What's your name? I am Michael."

"Sam."

"Well Sam this is about testing your limits as well as pleasure because in the end that's all that really matters. In the end we all need to make sacrifices to obtain what we desire most."

"What…what do I have to do?" Sam licked his lips nervously because this guy was beginning to sound like a fucking nutjob and Sam was just about ready to get the hell out.

"Have you ever been bound before Sam?"

"No…no, I don't think I'm gonna stay…"

"Not your hands Sam, your cock and your body. I want to stop you from cumming until I let you. Take your clothes off and lie on the table and I will show you. I will pay you very well, you are too beautiful to lose now."

At Sam's hesitation, the older man picked something up from the table and brought it over. "Here look at these pictures. Kinbaku is an ancient rope tying art, it is used to enhance pleasure from pain and I need to practice. I need you Sam, so I become worthy of the gift of immortality."

I…I can go when I want and you won't tie my hands? Won't tie me down?" Sam wasn't completely convinced but this could mean Emmett got home sooner rather than later. If the guy rambled on like an idiot it didn't matter as long as he kept his end of the bargain. "And you'll pay three hundred for the hour?"

"If you only want to be partially bound then that is all I will do. I need to practice but I will show you a whole new world." Michael slipped three crisp hundred dollar bills from his wallet and held them out. "Take a bottle of water from the fridge while I prepare the rope and I will explain."

Yeah…yeah okay." Sam figured as long as his hands were free he could take the guy if it came down to a physical fight.

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Sam panted, biting his lip in preference to begging Michael to just finish already and let him cum. Sam could feel the sweat running down his neck and chest and fuck everywhere. He groaned before he could stop himself when Michael's mouth slipped off his rock hard cock and then he whimpered as he felt hands touching the bindings that were wrapped tightly around his balls and the base of his penis.

Hi arms and hands and legs had remained free as promised and his fingers clawed at the sheets beneath him, not bound but unable to do anything but clench around the cheap cotton as his body was enticed to the edge of orgasm but denied. The bindings that wrapped around his body meant that every single movement, every breath and flex of muscle, seemed to tighten the rope that was secured around his now reddened cock and balls and between the crease of his ass.

The rope wrapped around each hip and intricately linked up his torso until it looped around his neck and then interlocked across his chest. Each nipple was caught between a crisscross of rope and when the strands moved a little and rubbed the sensitive nubs he wasn't sure if his back arched in pain or pleasure.

He had been afraid to start with, no doubt about it, ready to fight if that's what it took to get away if things went south. But they hadn't and now all Sam could think about was the hot wet feeling of having a mouth on his shaft for the first time in his life. He was normally the one with a mouthful of cock.

He was drawn out of his lust induced frenzy when Michael showed him a small knife as his fingers ran seductively across the weeping head of Sam's thick member.

"A small cut Sam, on the inside of your thigh, that's all I ask before I finish. Before I let you have your pleasure." The older man whispered across Sam's throat as his mouth trailed up the taut skin. "Before I sink inside you and you understand how good it can be."

Sam's mouth was dry as he panted his reply, the only thing he could focus on was the need for release, and although some part of his brain questioned his lack of restraint it was soon overridden by basic desire. "Yes…"

Sam felt the cold blade cut his skin and he bucked his hips as the pain sent tendrils of sweetness straight to his groin and deep in his belly. As the red warm liquid soiled his skin it felt like a fire had ignited within him and he moaned in frustration as fingers moved along his thigh, wanting them to touch him, needing them to stroke him.

"Please…please…"

Michael's hands turned Sam's body over on the bed and his already slick cock penetrated the tight muscle of Sam's ass. Tensing at the pull of the rope and then writhing as Michael's cock pushed relentlessly against his prostrate once then again and again, Sam arched his back in a deep clenched curve.

Sam couldn't help himself push back into the grind of cock inside him and then forward into the mattress trying to find the friction to push himself over the edge. Sweat covered every part of his skin and his hair was plastered in his face in wet strands, the sting of salt in his eyes even as they squeezed closed. Nothing else existed except the feel of muscles clenching and the raw need to climax.

He was unaware of the sinful moan that spilt from his mouth when Michael cut the bonds and spurts of creamy seed spilt from his pulsing cock, he hardly noticed Michael's hands bruise his hips as the older man reached his own orgasm.

As his senses returned Sam realised he had been turned over on his back again as he felt Michael's mouth sucking hard on his thigh where the blade had cut his skin. He felt a little disorientated but put it down to being restrained. Even the dull pain as Michael lapped at the knife wound felt good, somehow soothing.

"You are a quick learner Sam, I want to see you in two days at this address. I need to leave now but you can shower and then lock the door behind you."

Sam blinked slowly as Michael placed a piece of paper in his hand and then ran a finger across his chest. He nodded as the older man looked at him expectantly.

"I will show you pain and pleasure and I will pay you well. You earned this." Michael put another fifty in his hand.

Sam gasped as Michael leant down and bit his nipple hard before standing and walking out of the room.

It was a while before Sam was steady enough to shower and walk out the door, the address folded neatly in his trouser pocket. He had walked halfway home before the pain had began to make itself known and ache insistently through his bruised flesh. As his thoughts cleared, Sam began to question what he had just done, how much he had enjoyed it…but he knew he hadn't been drugged. It just wasn't possible.

His head was pounding and he was exhausted by the time he limped into his room and curled up on the floor beside Emmett, too tired to even remove his shoes.

"Sam what's wrong?"

Sam gently curled his fingers in the boy's hair as he pulled him close. "Shhhhh, m'okay."

Emmett turned a little and ran his hand down the older boy's face, brushing hair off his closed eyes. Sam was already asleep when Emmett curled in against his chest, his fingers tracing lightly over the red purple marks on the older boy's neck that were visible even in the near darkness.

"I'll look after you Sam."

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	3. Chapter 3

**Rating:** NC17

**Warnings**: **Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst, Explicit Content**

Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!

**Summary**: Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street…then their worlds collide.

_a/n: You can all thank Zara Zee for remindng me to post this cause RL has eaten all my time and my muse is being a bitch with everything else! _

**Chapter 3**

Sam was sure he heard a voice calling his name but every time he came close to opening his eyes, the weariness dragged him back down beneath the surface. By the time he was coherent enough to wake, the voice was nearly yelling and a small firm fist was pounding his shoulder.

"Sam? Sam please, you need to wake up please. Sam please."

"Yeah…yeah…s'rong?" Sam opened his eyes and blinked until the blur in front of him turned into Emmett's too close face. As he struggled to sit up, trying to get his bearings, he was surprised by another blow to his arm.

"Hey! What the hell Emmett?" He watched as the young boy sat back on the floor cross legged and looked away.

"You lied."

"Emmett I don't know what…?"

"You told me you didn't take drugs."

"I don't Emmett. I didn't lie."

"S'taken me forty minutes to wake you up Sam. I asked Crystal to check you and she said you'd been roofied and you'd just passed out but…you would've known, you would've..."

"Yeah that's right I would've known and I didn't take anything okay."

He remembered walking home…for hours?... in the early dawn. Sam frowned at the memory of being bound again by Michael, this time hands and legs and the whole fucking deal. The feel of the knife sliding on his skin and then…he shook his head, he hadn't been drugged he was just…he had enjoyed it.

In the end Michael had paid him to stay for two hours and he had wanted to, maybe needed to. In the end, Sam had realised he was as sick as Michael. Only a sick fuck would enjoy being tied up and cut with a knife…right? Even if it didn't seem like something he would do…not really…but he couldn't argue with the cold hard fact though and it had happened.

"M'just really tired and sore Emm…this guy's a weird ass and he gets his money's worth…but he's harmless. Only one more meet with him anyways so don't worry 'bout it."

It wasn't a lie, Sam just left out the part that it was the first time he remembered so much pleasure being fucked. He could still feel the echo of pain in his body from Michael's cock and the ropes that had bruised his skin.

"Don't go Sam…don't see this guy again. There's marks on you…" Emmett's eyes skittered away and down. "I don't want to go home if it means you do this…I'd rather stay here with you. Unless you come with me."

"Hey, we've been through this already and no you're not staying." Sam paused to rein in his emotions and get his voice back under control because he wasn't going through this again. "And no, I'm not coming with you. I don't belong there and you are gonna get yourself back in school and get friends your age and have a life. A proper life."

…_where you don't have to suck some guys dick just so you can feed and clothe yourself…_

"Sam…"

"C'mon get yourself cleaned up so we can go to the Library. You know Mrs Russo doesn't like it if we look untidy."

Emmett nodded, knowing Sam wasn't going to talk about it anymore, and when Sam didn't want to talk, well, Sam wasn't going to talk.

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**One week earlier…**

Dean Winchester leant against the wall and fumbled the room key out with one hand, trying to fit it in the lock…no freakin swipe room card in this Godforsaken shithole…he winced at the movement as the door opened and he staggered inside, only pausing long enough to slam the door closed before he weaved his way over to the bed.

He dropped the duffel at his feet and sat down with a pained groan, resisting the urge to just fall back on the bed because he knew he wouldn't be able to move if he did. Plus trying to hide blood stains on a light beige floral…fucking floral…bedspread would be a bitch.

Easing his jacket off, noting with relief it wasn't ripped, he looked down at his shirt which hadn't been so lucky as he saw the bloodied tear across his abdomen. The Minotaur…and if he hadn't seen the damn thing with his own eyes he would still be cursing Bobby for even suggesting that's what he was dealing with…had thankfully only grazed him with its horn. Twice.

Gasping as he leant over and unzipped the bag, stretching the wounds across his abdomen and lower back, he found the med kit and placed it next to him. He peeled the tattered shirt off, cursing as the drying blood stuck to the fabric and caused fresh pain as the wounds re-opened a little.

Steeling himself, Dean reached behind him and swabbed the wound with antiseptic before repeating the process on his stomach.

'Fuck…Jesus." He gritted his teeth and bit down on his agony because he sure as fuck wasn't some wuss, even if there was no one else around to hear it.

Some things were just ingrained.

By the time he had showered and dressed both wounds, Dean was shaking from pain and exhaustion. He uncapped the half empty bottle of Jack and took a long swig, then another before placing the bottle on the nightstand. He reached over and grabbed his phone, hitting autodial and taking another mouthful of bitter liquid as the electronic dialing sounded in his ear.

"Yeah?" A deep gruff voice answered the landline.

"Bobby."

"Dean, good ta hear from you son." The voice noticeably softened.

"Minotaur's dead and yeah I owe you a beer."

Bobby chuckled. "Actually you owe me a beer and a bottle of scotch but I'm sure you ain't gonna forget that."

"What else you got?"

"You hurt son?"

"Nah Bobby m'good to go." Dean frowned and wondered how the hell Bobby could tell.

"Yeah, and I'm wearing a damn pink tutu right now."

"Really? Gee Bobby I had you pegged s'more of a fishnet guy." Dean laughed maybe a little deliriously as his vision swam slightly.

"DEAN! If ya gonna lie to me then you damn well better get good at it cause right now you sound like ya gonna fall down." Bobby sighed into the phone. 'Hurt or not you need to take break, ya been at this since…for nearly a year son. Come down an stay with me for a bit…just a week or two and…"

"I'm fine Bobby. If you got nothing I'll go looking…"

"Okay. OKAY!" Bobby paused and Dean could hear the rustling of papers at the other end of the line. "There's been some street kids killed a coupla counties over…reports say there's chalk circles at the crime scenes and the bodies are covered in blood symbols and are partially frozen. All the victims are young boys and looks like they've been abused and drugged. M'thinking ritual but without checking the symbols I can't tell what for…whoever is doing this seems to have a thing for pain."

"Yeah 'kay, I'll leave in the morning."

"Dean, you know you don't have to keep running son. It's okay to grieve for your family."

"M'not running I…I just wanna hunt Bobby. S'all I know. And thanks."

Bobby closed his eyes as he heard the call disconnect and wondered how long it would take for Dean to fall apart and get himself killed. As he poured himself a drink he thought maybe that's exactly what the damn fool boy had planned.

He was a Winchester after all, and when they went down, they went down hard.

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**Present**

Dean Winchester ducked under the yellow crime scene tape and flashed his FBI ID briefly before tucking it back into his dark blue suit jacket. "So, what we got here?"

The uniformed officer straightened his back and consulted his police issue note book, swallowing convulsively. "Um…we got another male victim, assaulted, possibly tortured before being killed. We..er…can't find any obvious cause of death but the body is…well it's kinda frozen."

'Frozen huh, just like the other four. Please tell me this was kept out of the press."

"Yeah, yeah we haven't released any details about the other bodies."

"Okay, so we can rule out copycat. Rope marks?"

"Yes. Rope marks on the victims wrists and torso and um…genitals. Crime scene thinks some of the marks are a coupla days old maybe."

"Hmmm…this kid's young like the others too. Anyone claimed the other bodies yet?"

"No, not that I know. Looks like the others were just street pros like this one, probably asked for it."

Dean turned, eyes narrowing. "You think they have a choice, that their deaths matter any less?"

"I…uh…no."

"Damn straight."

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It had started out like the past two sessions although Michael had mentioned it might go a little longer because it was the last. He said he was leaving the city tomorrow and seemed almost nervous, even more particular than he had been before about laying the implements and ropes out.

Sam had removed his t-shirt as requested and sat on the edge of the table anxious to get started. Anxious for Michael to make the first cut because it was like releasing the tension and Sam wasn't sure why but he almost regretted it was ending. He tried to push away thoughts of Emmett's voice pleading with him not to go because Sam knew this was wrong, he was wrong…

…_dirty, disgusting…._

…but this was the last time and then he could send Emmett home…

…_and then what?_

"Here Sam drink some water before we start so you don't dehydrate. I want to draw these on first. Trap the right energy."

Sam took the bottled water and cracked the seal, knowing better now than to make any comments about Michael's bizarre superstitions and rites. He drank the cool water and placed the half empty bottle down beside him just as Michael stood and surveyed his chalk drawn handiwork on the floor beside the table.

"Lie down Sam." Michael picked up a length of rope and tied a slip knot in one end, keeping a small loop in his hand.

"My jeans…I've still got…um…" Sam squeezed his eyes tight as the room did a lazy circle around his head. "…what…mmmm…what did you do t'me?" He felt Michael's hand on his chest pushing him down as he struggled weakly, pathetically against it.

"I had to Sam and I'm sorry it has to be this way but you were chosen. I chose you to sacrifice and soon you'll be ready. Now though, now I'll do the part you enjoy…I've seen the look in your eyes when I cut you Sam and I know it makes you feel clean and whole.

"No… don't... don't do this." His felt Michael pull his arms up and then the rope bit into the skin of his wrists. His brain was screaming at him to move but the words were lost somewhere between his mind and his body.

"I'll make it feel good Sam." Michael's hands traveled down his chest, tracing over his nipples and then sliding down between his hips before rubbing over the denim clad bulge of his soft cock.

Sam could feel himself slipping and his body wasn't even trying to fight it, in fact he could feel it doing the opposite. It felt too good and for once he didn't care, didn't have to worry about anything or anyone and the relief was intoxicating. He groaned and tried to lift his hips into the pressure.

"Look at me Sam."

He watched as Michael held the knife out for him to see, lowering it slowly to his chest and he couldn't help the way his breathing got heavy as he waited for the pain. Waited for the slice and the slow ache that followed. He felt the tip of metal on his skin and then the cut, longer and deeper than before and he wondered if he should worry because the blood seeped out fast, dark red and thick.

Goosebumps broke out over his body as the warm liquid ran over his skin and Sam let his head fall back. He sucked in a harsh breathe as he felt the sting of the knife again, a vertical cut down from his shoulder to meet the other line above his heart.

Gasping and beginning to struggle with the burn of pain now, he knew something wasn't right. Even through the cloud of drugs it was obvious he was in trouble.

"St…stop."

Sam winced and cried out as fingers ran along the slick cuts, pushing in and then spreading the thick crimson along in his chest in what felt like brush strokes.

"I am nearly done with you Sam. It should feel like an honour to wear these symbols, your reward for being so good. You have been the best, the pain you endured and the pleasure you reached has made this spell the strongest by far. I just need a little more blood to finish the chant and it will be done."

Sam found himself mesmerised by the voice and soft hands caressing his chest and stomach and he leaned into the touch when it reached his face. The pain felt good now, a slow burn that warmed him when he was so used to being cold all the time.

"Do you want peace Sam? Do you want to rest and never worry again?"

"Yes." He felt so tired and confused as he felt Michael kiss his forehead.

Sam barely struggled now as he felt hands on his zipper and then the tug and scrape on his skin as his jeans were pulled down to his ankles. A hand moved up and down his shaft, so good and slow and he bucked his hips up trying to get more friction until he was pushed back flat against the table. The hard smooth sensation against his hardening cock was familiar and Sam began to pant in anticipation of the pleasurepain that it meant.

The rope was hemp and Michael had used it on him twice before, never like this though, never so tight and forced and he grunted a little as it was wound tightly around the base of his penis and then wrapped around each thigh. Starting to panic a little as his cock was once more surrounded with rope until almost halfway along his shaft, Sam felt a painful tug as the rope was threaded around his balls and then crossed over his stomach, just above his hips and under his back before being pulled taut. Michael was unrelenting then as he quickly looped an end behind each of Sam's knees and pulled hard.

Sam cried out as his knees were forced open and his cock was squeezed by the rope as well as the upward and outward pressure from the ties. The pain was too much and he could feel tears sting in his eyes as his body shook from the strain. A terrible ache in his groin made him want to double over but he couldn't move, couldn't get away from it.

"Stop…nngh…please stop. Hurts."

Another rope was wrapped around his throat and tightened until he struggled to breathe just as warm moist heat engulfed his engorged cock. Sam felt Michael's mouth sucking hard on the tip of his shaft, tongue pushing hard against the slit every time his lips moved down along his hardness. He could feel his climax growing, and his balls tightening and throbbing but he was held there in a state of near orgasm by the rope around his rock hard cock.

Sam panted and groaned as he felt wave after wave build within him, becoming a painful throb when he was denied release again and again. Sam's mind and body were in a state of chaos and arousal, over stimulated with pain, pleasure and the basic instinct to breathe which was becoming more and more difficult.

Sam's body was thrashing wildly now against the restraints as a burn began in his oxygen starved lungs as well as deep in his groin and then flashes of white invaded his sight as a finger was pushed deep inside his unprepared hole. Pushing against the finger that twisted inside him and then straining up into the sweet sucking pleasure, Sam's body undulated on the table, flushed and sweat soaked.

There was a sudden almost unbearable strain on the ropes and then they were pulled away except for the one around his neck. Sam would have screamed as the orgasm flooded through him and thick ropes of cum splashed his stomach as his muscles tensed and shook but he couldn't breathe at all now.

Back arching impossibly off the table as his lips parted in a silent plea, Sam's eyes rolled back in his head as he passed out, cum still spurting from his cock.

Sam was oblivious when Michael cut across his hip and moved his fingers through the fresh blood and cum before collecting some in a silver thimble. The older man chanted as he added intricate lines to the symbols on Sam's body before placing the thimble in the centre of the chalk circle.

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Dean tilted the beer bottle up and swallowed, closing his eyes as the cool liquid washed down his throat. It was early evening and he was going around in circles, sure that he was missing something important. Something that might mean the difference between life and death for someone.

He was pretty sure he was dealing with some kind of demon that was sucking the life force out of its victims. The frozen corpses were one clue and the sulphur residue was a given but this demon had been summoned and he couldn't work out why or how to stop it.

He had gone over the cold trail working backwards from the latest dead body to the first, checking the reports and crime scenes and it was wearing him down – he was supposed to save people. If he couldn't do his job he was nothing, worth nothing.

Picking up another of the old texts Bobby had given him, Dean leafed through the yellowed pages, eyes blinking drowsily until he saw something that caught his attention. He got out the notebook he had copied the crime scene symbols into, comparing his rough sketch with the illustration.

"Son of a bitch." He whispered the words out as he straightened in the chair, sure now he was finally on the right track. He read the accompanying text over and over as the soldier within began automatically working out a battle plan.

Mortisean demons sucked the essence from offered sacrifices and, if pleased, gave immortality as a reward. The demon required six young male sacrifices and a blood spell that contained oxytocin and endorphin levels high enough to satisfy its cravings. It fit the pattern but an anti spell had to be crafted to stop the summoning ward. Dean frowned, he hadn't done one before but hell, it couldn't be that hard.

He glanced briefly at the other information on the demon and marked the page before shutting the book and getting to work. First thing first, he knew he had to stop the ritual before another life was lost. The rest would have to be figured out as he went.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Rating:** NC17

**Warnings**: Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst,

Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!

**Summary**: Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street…then their worlds collide.

**Chapter 4**

The anti spell was written, now he just needed to find out where the demon was being called, or who was summoning it. Yeah…piece of fucking cake.

All the prior victims were young male prostitutes so Dean took a walk downtown, surprised at the number of offers he received from street corners and dark streets. He spoke to them, most of them no more than kids with dark eyes and thin bodies, and gave them all his number on a blank card. He wondered in frustration as he looked into their drug glazed eyes how many would actually retain the information he was giving out. Wondering if one of them would be the next dead body he looked at behind the crime scene tape.

He had just walked back into the dingy motel room when his cell phone rang and he answered without checking the display.

"Yeah." Dean heard the drop of coins from the payphone.

"Are you…are you checking out the murders?"

The voice sounded young. "Yeah why?"

"My friend, he's…he's got marks like you said, rope marks and cuts and... and he's seeing the same guy again tonight. I'm just worried…look, I don't know if this is what you're looking for I just…"

The boy left the sentence unfinished but Dean needed any lead he could get. "Okay that's okay. S'better to check it out, play it safe. What's your name?'

"Emmett."

"Okay Emmett, d'know where your friend is, where he meets this guy?"

"Yeah I can show you."

Dean hesitated, he really didn't want any more potential victims being led to the slaughter so he'd have to make sure the kid was well out of the way. "Tell me where to meet you."

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Dean parked about half a block away from the run down diner where the kid wanted to meet and walked the rest of the way. There was a group of yellow vested workmen sipping coffee and eating hot dogs outside the shabby looking building but as he approached he saw a boy slouched against the bricks.

"Emmett?'

"You're the guy I rang?"

"Dean Winchester." Dean held his hand out, a little amused when the kid seemed nervous of him. "So where exactly is this friend of yours?"

It only took about ten minutes to reach the galvanized steel storage warehouse but Dean doubted he would have found it without help considering all the twists and turns they had taken along the way. The kid obviously knew the area and all the shortcuts.

"This place hasn't been used in a while." Dean ducked through one of many holes in the chain link fencing. "How d'you know he's here?"

"The rooms inside get used for other things, for parties and group…things. We call it The Shed. You don't come here alone unless you let someone know, just in case. Sam won't let me come here at all, says it's too hardcore and he'll beat my ass if he finds out I have."

"So your friend Sam told you he was coming here?"

"Well not exactly. I heard him telling Crystal."

"Okay." Dean frowned. "Listen this better be for real, I haven't got time to…"

"Please, please it is. Sam, he looks out for me and he never does any of the weird shit or drugs or anything like that but since this guy he's had these marks and bruises. I think this guy is hurting him but Sam keeps going back and I think it's all my fault. Please you gotta help me."

"Listen, just slow down. How could this be your fault? Sam doesn't have to keep going back to this guy, I mean it couldn't be that bad could it if he keeps going back?"

"Sam tracked down some of my family living in Seattle. They haven't met me but they want me to go live with them, get a fresh start. The only problem is they haven't got a lot of money and they can't afford the airfare. Sam told me he'd look after it and he'd get me home before Christmas. Then he started meeting this guy Michael."

Dean nodded. "So I'm guessing the weirder the request, the higher the fee?"

"Yeah, and Sam's gone for hours at a time and always moves slow when he gets back like he's hurting."

"How old are you kid?"

"Old enough."

Dean could tell the reply was automatic, defensive and he grinned at the boys resolve. "Okay, how old's Sam?"

"Older than me."

"Right, now we've settled that I want you to go um...home, and stay there. I don't want to have to worry about where you are if things go south."

"No I'm staying, I need to make sure Sam's okay. You can't make me go."

Dean glared at the boy, who he was certain was no more than sixteen, but when his well practiced look of wrath made no impact he rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Fine, just wait here then and stay alert. Please. Sounds like Sam had good reason to want you to stay away so at least listen to him if you won't listen to me."

Dean crept through the darkened warehouse, torch and gun gripped firmly in his hands. The kid hadn't mentioned that there were dozens of rooms, some filled with decaying stock that had been left behind to rot, others filled with nothing except obscenely large rodents with eyes that glowed almost blood red in the torchlight. Dean shivered, thinking not for the first time he would rather battle the supernatural over rats any day.

He had already had one false alarm, approaching a partially shut door and hearing groans and noises from within. Dean kicked the door open and shone the light on a threesome obviously too focused or too stoned to be disturbed by his intrusion. Dean's head tilted to the side as he lowered his gun and tried to make out exactly what he was looking at amidst the tangle of naked bodies.

"Um…Sam?"

A fit of giggles followed his question before a sultry voice beckoned him over. "I can be whoever you want honey."

"Right, I er…maybe another night."

Dean quickly moved on, beginning to think this was a false lead after all until he heard someone screaming in definite pain. He started to run following the sound as it slowly died out, rounding a corner and seeing Emmett come from the other direction and run through the doorway ahead of him.

"Sam?" The boy cried out as he entered the room.

"Hey, don't go in there." As he yelled out the boy was pulled further into the room and the door slammed shut. "Damn it."

Sam yelled as he felt Michael's fingers pressed into the knife cuts on his chest, freshening the pain and making the blood run again from the wounds. He had woken still on the table but only bound by his arms however the pressure from the older man's hands was enough to keep him from moving too much. Michael was obsessively drawing patterns on Sam's torso in his own blood and chanting something in a language Sam didn't recognise.

Pl…please stop. Lemme go." Sam barely recognised his own voice, hoarse and raw from the rope that had nearly strangled him.

Michael suddenly walked away from the table out of his vision and he breathed deep, relieved at the lack of pain and touch. Hearing the door slam shut, Sam tried to lift his head off the table but he really didn't understand what he was seeing until Emmett's hands cupped his face.

"Sam? Oh God Sam you're hurt."

"He's alright. Sam agreed to this, he enjoys this."

"S'okay Em, I'm okay. Get…get out now." Sam looked up at the boy trying to focus his eyes.

"Sam? You're hurt…there's a lot of blood." The boy turned around. "You hurt him, let him go now. We're…we're gonna go."

Michael smiled as he walked over shaking his head and tapping an iron rod into the palm of one hand. "Oh it's a little too late for that."

Emmett screamed as the rod connected hard with his forearm and the sound of bone breaking was sickeningly clear. He fell to his knees beside the table where Sam was tied and cried out again as he was reefed to his feet.

"I think I can put you to good use." Michael swung his fist fast, colliding with the boys face and knocking him out cold.

"Emm? Emm? Leave him th'fuck 'lone. M'gonna killyou f'you hurtim."

Sam saw the dark shape moving towards him but when his head was snapped hard to the left, oblivion took over before his eyes had even closed.

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The sounds around him made Sam stir.

There was banging and yelling close by and he groaned as he propped himself up on one elbow, instantly ignoring his splitting headache and the pain in his body when he looked beside him.

"Emmett? Emm, wake up." He shook the boy gently, relieved when he got a small response.

They had been laid out unbound on the floor of the room in what seemed to be a patterned circle of chalk, one of Michael's strange symbols. There were markings of blood on Emmett's bare chest similar to his own but he was relieved there didn't seem to be any cuts on the boy, except for the bruise high on his cheekbone.

Sam sat up and got to his knees slowly, everything still seemed a little out of focus and his head was still spinning from the effects of whatever drug he had been given. He mustn't have been out for too long because there was a fresh cut on his hip still bleeding.

Reaching over and checking Emmett again, Sam was relieved to hear a small groan but he figured the kid would still take a few minutes to come around. He focused again on the noises from outside the room.

Someone was definitely pounding on the outer door and he tried to remember if there was another way out but he couldn't quite recall. Looking around he noticed a slim door behind him and was relieved they wouldn't have to get past whoever was on the other side of the main door.

Standing up had seemed like a good idea but proved a lot more difficult than Sam had anticipated as he crashed down on his knees lost in a wave of vertigo. It wasn't so much the pain in his head but the loss of equilibrium that was hampering his effort and as he fought not to fall in a complete heap on the floor, the sounds outside suddenly grew loud enough to make out a distinct voice.

"Hey kid, c'mon man you gotta let me in. There's something coming and you really need to let me help you. Emmett c'mon, you trusted me enough to tell me about this place now let me help dammit."

"Shit." Sam swore softly when he heard Emmett's name and wondered what the hell they had gotten themselves into here.

He crawled over to the table and pulled himself up, steadying himself enough this time to remain mostly vertical. Seeing his jeans in a crumpled heap on the tabletop he slid them over and managed to fumble them on, wincing as the skin around the still seeping cuts pulled and stung with the movement. He tried to ignore the rub of the rough material over the bloodied wounds and the rope burns on his skin, fastening his jeans as quickly as his shaking hands would allow.

He breathed deep, then looked around the room frowning in confusion when it seemed like the temperature suddenly dropped sharply making him shiver as the now frosted air felt harsh against his bare torso.

"What the fuck…?" Sam watched as his breath ghosted out from his lips like a wintry mist.

"Sam?"

Emmett's voice was quiet and confused.

"Hey buddy, you okay?"

"I…um…arghh, my arm."

Sam hadn't noticed before but the arm Emmett had been partially lying on was bruised and swollen, probably broken. He quickly grabbed the boy's shirt off the floor and made a crude sling to support it as he helped him sit up slowly. "You hurt anywhere else?"

Emmett shook his head before admitting quietly. "Arm hurts."

Sam watched as the younger boy rubbed at his bruised face with his right hand and winced. "What are you doing here Em? Who did you bring?"

"I was worried Sam. I thought…this guy Dean, he came around the street warning everyone about the killings. He said the killer is doing some kind of ritual first and he told us what to look for." Emmett lowered his head. "I saw the marks on you Sam and…and I heard you tell Crystal where you were going. Dean said there'd probably be another kill today, he said it's the pattern… and you were…and so I brought him here."

Sam listened as Emmett blurted his answer out but then his attention was drawn again to the air around him as Emmett's breath clouded in an unmistakable fog around his lips. A low buzzing started to vibrate in the room around them.

"What is it Sam?"

"I…I don't know. C'mon, can you stand."

Sam had just begun to help Emmett up from the ground when the mist started swirling around in the middle of the chalk circle beside them. The room was now like the inside of a refrigerator and Sam felt the boy shudder under his hands as a darkness grew within the grey vapor.

"C…cold."

"Yeah I know." Sam moved towards the back door he had seen and almost growled in frustration when he discovered it must have been locked from the outside. Michael must have escaped that way and locked it behind him.

Acting on nothing but instinct, Sam quickly pulled Emmett back and away from the edge of the circle and looked around. The circle was between them and the main door but Sam wasn't about to move across it, instead preferring to inch them along the wall to get them out of the room. Even if it meant having to get past this Dean guy, Sam couldn't see any other choice.

Even if he had been prepared, and there was no way he could have been, it moved too fast and suddenly Emmett was torn from his grip and disappeared into the thick mist crying out in pain.

There then gone.

Just gone.

Sam moved before he had even thought about what was happening, before the pained cry from his friend faded out completely. Certainly before he had worked out exactly what he was going to do.

"EMMETT!" Sam ignored the harsh pain in his bruised throat.

A loud sound erupted in the room as the door suddenly flew open but Sam was too focused to notice as he ran into the circle. His skin crawled and the frigid air hurt his bare skin and seemed to get stuck in his lungs as he moved forward. He saw the dark shapes ahead and saw something…some thing had its mouth pressed to Emmett's mouth and Emmett wasn't moving.

Sam didn't need any more incentive than that and tried to run only it felt like slow fucking motion but finally he got close enough to throw his body against it. He hit the dark shape from the side then hit the ground hard and moved sluggishly to get up, startled when a clawed hand gripped his hip before something impacted his face.

Sam felt himself lift off the ground and then there was movement and air and then pain flared in his side, in his head, before the darkness swallowed him whole.

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The door was steel so shooting the lock was out of the question but as Dean began to pound at it he realised the bolts holding it closed on the other side were old and loose. It took just over fifteen minutes of bone jarring, no holds barred kicks and it finally burst open slamming against the wall and sending metal brackets flying across the room.

Not that Dean noticed any of that. He was too busy watching a tall boy, shirtless and bloodied, run into the swirling grey mist contained within a chalk drawn symbol on the ground.

"Holy crap." Dean didn't waste any time and ran after the boy, headlong into the icy fog muttering under his breath. "Yeah let's all run INTO the demon mist cause that's always a good thing."

The air was frigid and ached in his chest like a million tiny daggers but he soon saw dark shapes outlined ahead of him. The mist was far bigger on the inside than the outside chalk circle, impossible, yet here he was running across a wide expanse to reach the moving shapes. As he came upon them, the dark thing struck the tall boy and threw him hard past Dean and beyond but it still held onto something.

Dean raised the salt loaded gun as he advanced, finally firing point blank at the creature just as he felt the swipe of air close by his face. It disappeared before he had the chance to fire again. Dean saw Emmett drop from its grasp and wasted no time throwing him over his shoulder and running back the way he had come.

As he reached the edge of the circle he heard the growl closing fast and fired again into the swirling vapour before placing Emmett on the ground at his feet. A fast glance to the side and he noticed the other boy lying in a heap against the wall. Crumpled and motionless.

Quickly scrounging around in his pockets, he brought his hand out and began reading from the crumpled piece of paper, while fumbling to unscrew a flask of holy water. As he finished the incantation, he threw the contents of the flask into the mist and then across the edge of the circle, breaking the line of chalk.

The mist disappeared in a flash of light as though it never existed.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Rating:** NC17

**Warnings**: Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst,

Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!

**Summary**: Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street…then their worlds collide.

**Chapter Warning: Mentions of child abuse/rape**

**Chapter 5****  
**

Dean stood and turned, gently placing Emmett on the nearby table. He was pale and bloodied but Dean couldn't find any sign of a wound except for the obviously broken arm in a crude sling. Dean was more concerned with the possible unseen damage the demon had caused but for now the kid's pulse still seemed strong.

Dean shrugged out of his jacket, still noticing the tight pull of skin around the healing scabs on his torso from the Minotaur's weapon of choice. He covered Emmett's bare torso, noticing a blue tinge around his lips from the cold.

He walked over to the tall boy, Sam he guessed, and bent down to check for a pulse gasping in surprise when the boy moved and cried out when he was touched.

"Hey it's okay. You're okay…Sam. I'm here to help you."

Wh…what happ…where's Emmett? Emmett?" Sam pushed himself up, groaning when the room tilted right before he felt the floor meet the side of his face.

"Just slow down, stay down a minute let me see. Your friend Emmett, he's okay, out cold but he seems alright." Dean reached out to check Sam's head when he noticed the red smear low on the paint work where the boy's head had obviously lost the battle with wall.

"No, m'okay." Sam held his hand up as if to push Dean away, arms trembling.

"Yeah right, cause you're covered in blood and cuts, your face and neck's bruised to hell and you can't even sit up straight. You both need to get to a hospital."

"NO! Unless…unless Emm needs one. You think he needs one?"

Dean watched the sudden transformation as concern for the other boy seemed to outweigh his suspicion of Dean. It struck Dean then that while this kid looked older than Emmett, he was still young. Too fucking young for this shit.

"Yeah his arm needs to be set properly, I'm pretty sure it's broken. You're probably both concussed." He paused seeing the stricken look return to the definitely glazed hazel eyes, voice instinctively softening. "Is that a problem? I mean I get it okay, if you can't cover it…maybe I…"

"He's…he's only fourteen, they'll take him and put him back in foster care. He won't stay…he's been…hurt, too many times."

"Jesus. Fourteen?" Dean ran a hand over his face as he waged a silent debate with himself. He couldn't just walk away from this especially when he wasn't exactly sure what the demon had done to the boy and whether it would come back.

"I'll look after it okay? I'll make sure he's not taken but I have to keep an eye on him in case…in case there are any complications."

Sam felt dizzy and couldn't focus properly on the conversation because the pain in his head and body was becoming too distracting, and he felt like he had ice in his veins. All he wanted was to get Emmett back to the Pitt but this guy, this Dean, was saying hospital and Sam felt like he was losing control. He had to look after Emmett but he didn't know this guy and he sure as hell didn't think he would be doing them favours for nothing.

"Why…why would you help us? What d'you want?"

"I don't want anything…"

"Yeah sure" Sam closed his eyes briefly and took a breath, trying not to shiver. "If you get him seen at the hospital, I'll…I'll do whatever you want okay. I'll do anything you ask no limits…but you don't touch him. Deal?"

"What? No! I wouldn't…like I said, I don't want anything from you Sam, this is what I do. I hunt these…things, and I'm not really sure if this one's gone. I just need to make sure it doesn't come back." Dean picked up what he assumed was Sam's discarded t-shirt and handed it to him. "Here put this on at least, seeing as you won't let me check those cuts out. It'll warm you up a bit."

Sam took the shirt but remained silent, still unsure but he'd fight that fight later if he had to because he'd promised to get Emmett home, his proper home and Sam was going to keep his promise no matter what it took.

"C'mon we need to get him looked at, can you stand?"

Sam braced himself against the wall and slid his body upright, fighting the wave of nausea that threatened to send him crashing back to the ground. He watched as Dean scooped Emmett up off the table and carefully cradled his head against one arm before turning to look at him expectantly.

"I think you'd better lean on my shoulder kid. I'll get you outside then I'll go get my car."

"No…um…s'okay. Go ahead, I'll follow."

It was slow going and Dean was surprised Sam made it as far as the end of the corridor before sinking to his knees and dry retching. He waited nearby, wishing he could help this stubborn ass kid more but he already had his arms full. He waited until the sounds diminished to gasping breaths then walked over, speaking softly.

"Use the wall to get up then brace your hand on my shoulder. You've probably got a concussion Sam and I know you feel like crap and don't trust me but just let me help you get out of here. Help me get Emmett out of here."

Dean felt like he had accomplished a small win when he felt Sam's trembling hand press down on his shoulder. However as he got a sideways glance at the bruised face and pain filled eyes, almost but not quite hidden behind the long brown hair, it seemed like a hollow victory in the midst of everything.

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Dean walked back out of the emergency room doors after they had wheeled Emmett away to be checked out. He had to move the car and check on Sam who had refused point blank to go inside with him.

As he dropped into the driver's seat, Dean saw that Sam hadn't moved from the backseat where he had held his friend. In fact he looked like he was about to pass out himself.

"Is…is he okay?"

"They're gonna check him out now and I'll go back in and wait…why don't you come in and sit with me in the waiting room Sam? I promise no one is gonna touch you if you don't want."

"No…I can't…I just…"

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned as Sam shook his head slowly. "…it's just better if I don't."

"I could drop you off at my motel so you can at least rest…get cleaned up…"

"No."

Pulling the car up in a space off to the side that faced the garden, Dean got out and walked around to the trunk, rummaging around for several minutes before slamming it shut and opening the back door nearest Sam. "Here, may as well get as comfortable as you can cause I don't know how long this is gonna take."

Sam looked at the pillow and blanket offered to him and really couldn't figure out why this guy was being so kind. Why he cared at all. He knew he should be wary, probably running as fast as he could and he was so tired and worried about Emmett but somewhere, some part of him wondered if this was real. That maybe someone cared.

"Thank you." Sam couldn't lift his eyes in case he saw something in Dean's face that mocked his naïve hope or undressed him or any one of hundreds of hard, cold emotions he had witnessed in over three years on the streets. No matter what people said, you could only tell what they truly meant when you looked into their eyes.

Dean held out some aspirin and a water bottle, still warm from being in the trunk. "Lucky I keep a med kit in the back. You're throat is probably gonna swell a bit and your head and those cuts are gonna hurt like hell so take these. They should take the edge off."

Sam shook his head to both, not making any attempt to take either from Dean's hands.

"Sam?" Dean spoke quietly, feeling but not quite understanding the need to reassure the boy.

"Yeah?" Sam looked up before he realised what he had done. He looked into the sharp green gaze that seemed to immobilise him with its intensity.

"It's gonna be okay. Just try and get some rest." Dean moved slow, gently placing a hand on the younger boy's shoulder, but even then noticing the flinch. "I'll come back as soon as I hear anything."

Sam watched Dean walk away back up the path towards the emergency sign, hands in his pockets and an easy gait. He took a deep breath as he moved the pillow under his head and threw the blanket over his folded legs and wondered how someone he had only met an hour ago could somehow make him feel safer than he had felt in years.

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**Three years and four months earlier…**

It hadn't been too bad at first.

He was thirteen when he had been introduced to a couple in their thirties who had fostered kids before. The woman, Margaret, had seemed nice. A big smile and a hug as she met him, brushing the hair from his face.

Her husband George had smiled and shaken his hand and Sam had straightened his back and given a firm grip like his Dad had always taught him to do. He wondered whether his Dad was watching him now from "a better place' because that's where everyone kept telling Sam his family had gone.

A brand new start they had told him.

A brand new life when all he wanted was his old one back.

He smiled because he had been told it was polite but really all he wanted was to be in the other place with his family. He wasn't stupid, he knew they were dead, all of them dead. He just didn't care because without them, his parents and brother and sister, this wasn't real or right.

Nothing made any sense when he woke screaming in the middle of the night to the memory of crushing metal and breaking glass.

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He had been there three weeks and had settled in a bit. He had a routine and a new school and he had already been moved into a selective class for Maths and English. He had made a few friends but none close enough to open up to, just people to hang out with at lunchtime and listen to them talk.

It was Friday afternoon, he remembered that as clear as a bell because Margaret had gone to see her mother for the weekend. She had said goodbye that morning, making him promise to be good and not stay up too late.

Sam had been in his room reading when George had appeared, standing in the doorway.

"What ya doing boy?"

"Just reading a novel for English." Sam smiled his polite smile.

"You like those magazines I see." George nodded his head in the direction of the car mags Sam had bought that were in a neat pile beside him on the bed. The ones his Dad had always had lying around the house.

The ones that Sam had always asked twenty questions about when he read the "DIY" pages and knew every time, every single time, his Dad would take him outside and open the hood of their trusty family station wagon and explain.

The same trusty station wagon that had crushed them to death when it had been mangled by an oncoming four wheel drive, complete with front grid, mag wheels and a driver too stoned to even realise what he had done.

Sam had heard them talking at the hospital. It didn't take him long to work out he was the "poor boy".

"Cat got your tongue son?"

Sam took a breath when he realised George had sat down beside him.

"Um, no sir, sorry. I just…"

"It's okay y'know."

Sam stiffened a little as George put his arm around his shoulders.

"You just need to relax Sam. I think you and me can get on real good y'know." George's hand traveled down Sam's arm, sliding down his side and hip and rested on his thigh. "I'm gonna show you Sam, how we're gonna do this. Just be good and everything'll be fine."

Before he could think what to say, because a thirteen year old has a little trouble processing the fact that he's about to be molested by the same adult he's supposed to trust, Sam found himself face down on the bed.

He was breathing hard and whimpering as he felt George's hands slide underneath him and undo his jeans before sliding them off his body along with his boxers. George's knee pressed hard into his back keeping him still.

"Shhhhh Sam, just be good. I won't have to tell everyone about this if you be good. We'll keep this as our little secret."

Sam fell still as he felt rough hands on his ass, prodding and poking him and then somehow he found his voice.

"No. Please don't…please." Except it came out as a pathetic whisper, muffled against the mattress.

His scream was loud enough though, the volume ringing in his ears as George pushed inside him, split him in half and then ripped him apart.

As George moaned and pushed harder and faster Sam thought he was going to die because it hurt so much he couldn't breathe.

But he didn't die.

He was still very much alive when the mattress dipped and then suddenly he was alone and shaking so much he could hardly stand up, the bile rising hot and bitter in his throat.

Stinging and hurting in places no one was supposed to touch.

Sam barely made it to the bathroom before he threw up and by the time he limped out of the shower his skin was scrubbed raw. He tried not to look at the blood as it washed down his legs, he just wondered if he would bleed to death slowly.

He wondered if it would hurt much.

If Sam had known it was going to get far worse maybe he would've left then but a thirteen year old doesn't really know about the real world and its degradations. A thirteen year old from a happy family who had then survived an orphanage for three years didn't usually become a realist overnight.

But then that was the beginning of his brand new life.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Rating:** NC17**  
Warnings**: Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst,

Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!

**Summary**: Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street…then their worlds collide.

**Chapter 6**

He ran a hand over his face and wondered for maybe the hundredth time what he was doing…and what the hell had he been thinking letting a stranger stay in the Impala…IN THE FUCKING IMPALA…he was going soft.

Or insane.

Maybe both.

Dean had sat and fidgeted in the waiting room for just under two hours, filling out paperwork as best he could and then slipping into the dimly lit room when he was told he could visit his "kid brother" briefly.

Emmett had played along without a fault once he had woken and Dean was a little impressed at how well the boy had caught on to their cover story so quickly, convincing the doctors of his skateboard mishap with an award winning performance. Luckily Dean had remembered to wipe off the strange blood symbols that had been drawn on the boy's body in what had most likely been Sam's blood.

Dean had waited until they had been left alone in the room before sitting in the bedside chair. "So you okay, really? Well except for the cast and concussion I mean. Cause this Sam guy, I think he's gonna be pissed if he finds out you're not."

"Yeah." Emmett's small grin faded. "Is Sam okay? I mean, I remember he had so much blood on him and I think that guy drugged him and…and he had ropes on him…"

"Sam's fine. He's a little concussed and he's probably hurting a bit but from what I can see the cuts aren't too deep." Dean mentally kicked himself at the mention of drugs, he hadn't thought to check for that but hopefully any effects had worn off by now. "He still should've come in to get checked but…"

"Sam don't like hospitals and…and here they know what he does and…" Emmett shrugged, because he knew Sam was trying to protect him. Again. If they saw Emmett with Sam they would assume Emmett worked the streets as well and they would either treat them both like shit or call Child Services. Probably both.

"So Sam's a pretty good guy to have around?" Dean nodded, the picture falling into place a little more.

"Sam's awesome." The younger boy squinted at Dean, his face serious. "Will you make sure he's okay?"

"Yeah kiddo, I think I can do that." Standing up Dean pulled two bags of salt from his pocket that he had retrieved from the Impala's trunk and held them up. "And this is a little insurance for you, guaranteed to keep the monsters out. They won't clean the room till morning and by then the sun'll be up.

Emmett looked on silently as the older boy salted the perimeter of the room. Dean glanced over and smiled as he watched Emmett's eyelids begin to droop, surprised when another question was spoken.

"That…that thing I saw…thought I saw…was it real?"

Dean contemplated his answer, thought long and hard in the space of ten seconds about the lie he could spin but in the end he went with his gut. "Yeah Emmett, it was real. Don't worry about it now though, just get some rest."

"Okay…I guess. Thanks Dean." Emmett yawned, then added with a sleepy chuckle. "I mean big brother. Feels like I got two now, s'good."

Dean watched as the boy's eyes closed, his words stirring memories that he'd thought were buried a lot deeper.

"I'm no one's big brother any more kid." He whispered the words out loud without realising it.

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Dean stretched his neck and shoulders as he walked back out into the cold night air rubbing a hand wearily across his eyes. A part of him was screaming to cut and run because hunters didn't get this involved, not with anyone.

Except his instincts were telling him there was something wrong. He hadn't caught this Michael guy who had been summoning the demon and he really wasn't sure what the guy was going to do next, what he was even capable of doing. Demons were evil sons of bitches but were often predictable. Humans on the other hand…well sometimes they were just batshit crazy.

All he knew for sure was that the demon wouldn't come back tonight, not after ending the summoning ritual and breaking the calling circle. The demon hadn't been banished, that would be the next step, but the spell would've knocked it for six and it would need time to recover.

Sam stirred and sat up fast with a pained groan as Dean opened the driver's door and sat down, noticing the untouched water and pills on the passenger seat.

"Um…is he, is he alright?"

"He's okay, he's sleeping now. They set his arm, pretty clean break but they're gonna keep him in for observation because he was unconscious. We can probably get him out in the morning." Dean looked at his watch and groaned when he realised it was just after two am. "Well, maybe later in the morning, I think they mentioned after eight."

Dean turned around to face the back, arm resting on the top of the seat. "How're you feeling? Your head's gotta be killing you man, I wish you'd take something for it."

"M'fine." Sam slowly began moving towards the door, hand reaching out to grasp the handle. "Thanks for helping us."

"Wait, where're you going? You can't sit outside here all night, you'll freeze your ass off. Besides I'm gonna have to sign Emmett out in the morning seeing as he's my little brother an all."

"In the meantime…" Dean keyed the ignition. "…we are going back to my room and showering, eating and sleeping, not necessarily in that order. No argument."

Dean glanced in the mirror, surprised at the absolute lack of response but realising Sam had been running on empty hours ago and right now he probably had nothing left. He saw the younger boy's head nod slightly and that was good enough for him.

Sam felt like he had gone ten rounds with a block of concrete and every time he moved, a sledgehammer seemed to crash into the side of his head. He didn't argue with Dean though because he stood by his word and he had offered the guy his services without limits for taking care of Emmett.

Deep down he had known all along that nothing ever came without a price.

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Although Sam hadn't argued about coming here, it was a different matter when Dean tried to help him out of the car. The kid was stubborn and obviously didn't like being touched so Dean moved back to unlock the motel door and watch as Sam stumble stepped into the room and stood against the wall, arms folded loosely across his chest.

Dean was pretty sure he was swaying.

"Where do you want me?"

"What?" Dean frowned and shook his head at Sam's raw voice.

"Are you gonna fuck me or d'you want me to…"

"NO! Jesus Christ Sam I told you I don't want…is that what you thought I meant when I brought you back here?"

"Why else…?" Sam began but Dean cut him off before he had a chance to finish.

"Because I don't want either of you to end up dead okay. Is that so hard to understand? Are you that cynical you can't believe I just wanna help you?"

Dean thought for a minute about that last one and then lowered his voice. "Look Sam I get it okay I really do, more than you know. But I promise that's not what this is about. What I did to get rid of that monster was like a quick fix, I need to do something a bit more permanent so it can't come back for a very long time. Until then you and Emmett are in danger."

"Will Emmett be okay, shouldn't you be with him?"

"He'll be fine for tonight. At the moment he's probably in better shape than you." Dean paused trying to read Sam's face. "You need to let anyone know where you are, you can use my phone."

Sam smiled briefly, sadly. "No. There's no one to call."

Dean nodded and moved past him and started digging around in his duffel bag beside the bed. "Here, they won't be a perfect fit but they'll do. I'm gonna clean those cuts and then you can get some sleep."

Sam looked at him without making a move before he asked in a raw voice. "Can…can I have a shower. Please?"

Sam's uncertainty wasn't lost on Dean. "You don't need my permission but I think maybe you might wanna wait kiddo. Doesn't look like you should be standing up at the moment."

Dean was pretty sure that if the wall wasn't holding him up, Sam would have toppled over by now.

"No, I can clean myself up if I have a shower. I need to…please." Sam couldn't explain the sudden urgency to try and scrub the feeling of filth off his body, the blood, the sweat…the dried cum. The guilt. "Please.?"

"Yeah Sam it's fine." Dean heard the desperation and just wanted to make it go away. Fix it somehow. "There's towels and stuff in the bathroom, just take it easy okay?"

Sam was still confused, feeling like the bubble was about to burst any minute and he would wake up back in the real world of fear and hurt and survival. He would just have to stay alert so he wasn't caught off guard even though some part of his brain was softly calling out that this was okay, this was trust.

In the end he went with it, more out of exhaustion than any else. Besides, even if he did have to spread his legs and bend over to make sure Emmett was looked after, it wasn't like it would matter anyway.

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Sam closed the bathroom door, panicking a little when he realised there was no lock but he quickly found a rounded piece of bamboo in the window slide that kept it from being pried open from the outside. He wedged it under the gap in the door and began undressing.

For all the words and assurances that Dean had spoken, Sam was too tired and hurt to believe anything right now. And although he would do whatever Dean asked him if it came to that, he still didn't like surprises.

His t-shirt pulled a little as the dried blood stuck the fabric to his wounded skin and he looked down at the red cuts. Sam remembered feelings of pleasure when the knife had sliced him and the understanding that he had enjoyed the pain sickened him. Every time Michael had hurt him he had enjoyed it and had come back for more, telling himself he was only doing it for the money, to help Emmett.

Unfastening his jeans and letting them fall off his thin hips, Sam stepped out of them using the wall for balance as his legs started shaking a little. The rope marks on his cock and legs and across his hips were a purple shadow on his skin, a reminder now of how damaged he really was, how much he really had deserved to be hurt. It should have been him lying hurt or dead not Emmett.

This was all his fault.

Turning the water on, he stepped under the cascade and realised he couldn't remember the last time he had showered in hot water. Usually he had to make do with washing in restrooms and using the shower stalls with their tepid water in the truck stops on the edge of town. Normally after he'd sucked off some long distance driver or been fucked hard against the tiles.

Sometimes he used to pay his trick to let him use the motel room shower before he left but it had been a long time since he had done call outs.

Michael had been the first one in a year.

He should have known better.

The cuts on his body and the fresh claw mark above his hip stung under the spray and the trickle of blood turned the water pink as it circled down the drain.

No matter how hard he turned on the hot water, he still couldn't warm up.

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Dean grabbed a beer out of the fridge and sat down at the small table, opening his laptop as well as the bookmarked pages of research he had been working on for this job. He needed to read this stuff through again, work out the best containment symbols and banishment rite.

His eyes stared at the screen but all he could think about was these two kids who had been caught up in this nightmare. Emmett was a pistol, fucking fourteen and a better head on his shoulders it seemed than most guys twice his age. Well except for the running into danger part but the kid was only trying to save his friend, someone he thought of as an older brother.

And Sam.

A flood of emotions eddied around in his mind every time he thought about the tall boy with his dark hair and deep eyes. Sam couldn't be much older than Emmett and he had not only risked his life but had made it his responsibility to look after the kid.

It was more than that though but Dean wasn't about to dissect it or admit that he was drawn to the stubborn independence and fierce loyalty that blazed through in Sam's dark hazel eyes.

He started wondering what the hell had happened to the kid to make him so hurt and afraid.

He wondered what Sam would look like if he smiled.

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He wasn't sure how long Sam had been in the shower, he wasn't exactly timing the kid figuring he might need a bit of space. The water pipes clunked noisily at some point and Dean registered that the water had been turned off in the bathroom as he kept reading through the lore on Mortisean demons, checking and rechecking the ward he had crafted to dispel the creature.

He frowned as he began to read a section on how the demon was drawn to its sacrifices but lifted his head when he heard the loud thud from behind the closed door. He waited a few seconds but when the door didn't open he began to worry until he got up and went over to the door.

"Sam? Sam you okay?"

When silence was the only reply Dean turned the doorknob surprised when the door didn't budge. Worried that Sam might be lying on the other side he quickly dropped to the tiled floor and tried to see anything under the small space below the door. Seeing the obstruction he pulled the small knife from his pocket and pressed the tip against the piece of dowel before hitting it with the side of his fist until he felt it move.

Carefully opening the door, concern rose sharply in his gut when he saw the prone body wrapped in a towel and lying crumpled on the floor.

"Sam? Hey c'mon kiddo."

He felt a strong pulse and his eyes traveled in shock at the bruises and cuts and fucking abuse that littered Sam's face and torso now he could see it clearly. The kid had probably just collapsed. Hardly surprising.

Dean crouched down and lifted Sam under the shoulders and knees, surprised how little he weighed and how cold he was as he walked into the main room before carefully placing him on the bed. The towel wrapped around Sam's waist was soaked through and Dean retrieved the sweat pants he had given Sam and put them beside the boy.

He got Sam's feet into the pants and pulled them up his long legs as far as he could before he had to remove the towel. He tried to avert his eyes but it was the bruises and distinct purple coloured rope burns that made him stop and look. He clenched his fists in anger when he saw what had been done to Sam even as he gently pulled the sweats over his abused skin.

There was a deep red claw mark, obviously from the demon, on Sam's side which Dean had only glimpsed back at the warehouse. The kid hadn't even complained about being in pain, not once.

Dean grabbed spare blankets from the cupboard and covered Sam up but not before quickly applying antiseptic over each cut and checking his pulse again.

He'd let him sleep for now.

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_Dean fell down hard, teeth jarring in his mouth catching on his tongue and he tasted blood, more blood as a jarring pain shot up his knees as they crashed into the unforgiving concrete. His body hit the ground moments later and it was all he could do to turn his head to the side so he didn't crash face first. _

_He could hear his own groans as he tried to take shallow breaths, wondering briefly whether the bullet had hit anything vital before he began pushing himself up anyway. Moving his left arm ignited a fiery ball of lava in his side so he tucked it against his body and pushed up with his right, muscles straining with the effort._

"_Dean!" _

_His brother's voice and then strong hands on his arm, around his waist and he was half dragged to the side, out of the firing zone as bullets and battles continued on around them. _

"_Lemme see." Hands pulled at his shirt, probing back and front. "Bullet's gone straight through but you're bleeding a lot Dean."_

"_S'okay Jared, just hurts like fuck." He grinned into the worried eyes of his younger brother, noticing the bloodied nose and dark bruises on his face. "So what's the other guy look like?"_

_Jared smirked. "Dead."_

"_That's my boy." Dean clapped the younger boy's shoulder and grimaced with the movement. "C'mon we gotta find a way to take out these sons of bitches up there." He nodded up towards the crates piled high in a corner of the building. "They're mowing our guys down and now…I'm taking it real personal."_

_As they moved back into the firing zone a familiar voice was heard over the sounds of battle, and they both looked to the far corner of the floor. _

"_Dad." _

_As Dean spoke they both moved as one in the direction of their father at a run, firing as they went, each covering for the other. As they neared, they could see John's focus was on a pocket of civilians fronted by a demon guard, not willing to relinquish their human captives. Two of the demons suddenly turned their guns on the group and started firing._

"_Dad no!" Jared yelled out as they came within firing range and watched as their father advanced fearlessly, dropping demons with pinpoint accuracy._

_The brothers turned their weapons and started firing as well, Dean saw his father go down and then Jared stumbled beside him but kept his feet. Dean knew they had to keep going…finish the hunt then patch themselves up. It was how they worked…how they had been taught to survive._

_There were two more shots at the end before the last demon realised it was dead. Both bullets close range and knocking John off his feet._

"_DAD!"_

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Dean sat up gasping, shaking hand automatically reaching for the gun on the table before he realised there was no threat.

He roughly brushed a hand across his face, wiping away the tears that had escaped even as he willed himself to get a fucking grip.

Standing slowly and noticing with relief Sam hadn't stirred, he took a long swig and then another from the bottle of Jack before replacing it in his duffel.

Finding his place, he began reading through his notes. He'd only lost about an hour when he'd slept but an hour could change everything…especially when seconds could mean the difference between life and death.

Seconds could make you lose everything.

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Sam was aware of feeling cold but comfortable, safe, and he opened his eyes in a panic because that's not how things should be, not at all.

Sitting up awakened a Godawful pain in his head and neck and everydamnwhere but the fear at not remembering where he was, how he got here outweighed his agony.

"Sam, it's okay."

Nearly falling off the bed in his effort to get away from the man who was suddenly walking towards him, Sam's feet hit the floor first and he stood swaying precariously and breathing hard until vertigo claimed him and he dropped to his knees. Fight or flight instinct trying desperately to kick in but thwarted by his confusion and weakness.

"Sam calm down, you're safe."

Sam squinted in the grey light, the only illumination from a laptop sitting open on a table across the room and the dull glow of dawn through the closed curtains.

"Dean?" Details came back with a rush and he braced his hands on the bed, still unable to piece together exactly how he had gotten here.

"I don't...I'm not sure…" His voice sounded raw and his throat was now officially on fire even though the rest of him felt like there was a cold breeze blowing around him.

"You collapsed when you got out of the shower, you've been asleep for hours." Dean guessed Sam was missing a few pieces of the puzzle and he moved to help the younger boy off the floor.

"I…I can do it." Sam pushed up and half stood before slowly sinking down to sit on the edge of the mattress.

Dean sighed in resignation and stood with his palms open, hoping to look less like a threat. "You're gonna be a bit off balance until the concussion wears off, so just go slow."

Sam looked down at the sweats he was wearing, shame and fear clouding his mind when he realised Dean had seen him, all of him and he hated himself for being so gullible. So stupid.

"You…you touched me, dressed me. You had no right…you said…you said you wouldn't…"

…_I believed you…_echoing through Sam's mind in disgust with himself.

Dean realised with horror what Sam was implying. "No! God no Sam, I didn't touch you, I…I well I only touched you…no, not like that…just to get the towel off and put on something dry and then the antisepic and…"

Oh fuck Dean wished he could shut his mouth or just maybe keep his feet out of it.

"I couldn't leave you like you were, not when you were freezing. Not when you were hurt."

Sam was trying to process this information, he really was, but every thought was tainted with experience and most of his experiences had been of abuse and force. He didn't feel any new pain though and he knew what it felt like to be fucked, prepared or not it hurt. Logic started to seep through a little and he nodded, unable to speak through his emotions.

"Sam, I know it's not easy but you can trust me. I won't hurt you or do anything you don't want I promise. Just…just give me a chance okay? That's all I'm asking."

Sam hesitated before nodding again slowly, head down. He knew he wanted to trust this guy, he knew he felt safe with him without any reason to but more importantly he wanted more than anything to be able to feel something more than fear and pain.

He was so tired of always being afraid.

He was so tired he felt like he had nothing left.

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Sam had been hungrier than he thought possible and was grateful Dean had ignored him and gone out and bought breakfast even after he had refused the offer. He found his jeans still lying on the floor in the bathroom and took out the money Michael had paid him, holding it out to Dean.

"Take this, you've already helped us more than you needed to but…"

"Put it away Sam. The room I would've paid for anyway and breakfast is on me." Dean got up and walked over to the table coming back with a small packet. "I figure you don't trust me enough to know what I'm giving you and I get that okay but this…this is still sealed so you need to take a couple before your head explodes. And you can get a cup of water straight from the tap just to make sure."

Sam looked at the pack of Ibuprofen, still sealed just like Dean had said and smiled a little. "Yeah I think I will and thanks. I..I'm sorry I…Michael gave me sealed bottles of water and I'm pretty sure that's how he drugged me. I mean I don't know how else he did it."

Dean listened as Sam talked, his quiet voice still raw and hoarse and the bruising on his throat was now a deep purple, the rope mark clear on his skin.

"It's okay, like I said you've got reason to be wary. He probably punctured the bottle with a syringe above the water level. If you're not sure, hold the bottle upside down for a few minutes and it'll have a slow leak, just a drop at a time but it's enough to tell."

"Wish I'd known that before…this wouldn't have happened and Emmett wouldn't have gotten hurt. Fuck I'm an idiot."

"Wasn't your fault Sam, you were just in the wrong place at the right time is all. You couldn't have known."

Dean watched the play of emotions on Sam's face and knew with certainty there was nothing he could say that would convince Sam he wasn't to blame.

Sam voice was quiet as he spoke, eyes lowered. "I think maybe…I'm pretty sure he gave me something the other times but…not much…not enough to…" Sam shook his head. "I ignored it because I…I thought…"

Sam paused, stopping himself short before he confessed at how he'd liked giving the control to someone else, liked the relief… liked the pain. Dean already knew he was a whore, he really didn't need to embellish the image.

"Doesn't matter." He paused before finally meeting Dean's eyes. "I don't normally do drugs, I swear."

"You don't answer to me Sam. Besides, I already know you're clean."

Dean quirked an amused eyebrow at Sam's frown. "And awesome as well I hear."

"Emmett." Sam rolled his eyes as the penny finally dropped.

"Well I'm gonna go shower and then we can go to the hospital, see how many hearts that friend of yours has broken."

Sam laughed and Dean just about stopped in his tracks at the sound, not to mention the way Sam's face transformed. Eyes full of light and dimples, fucking dimples that deepened as his smile grew and made him look…so young. Happy.

"What?"

Dean turned away shaking his head when Sam questioned him. "You should do that more often Sam." He closed the door before Sam could reply and more importantly before he said something he probably shouldn't.

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Emmett sat in the backseat bundled up in blankets and babbling on about the awesomeness of the Impala much to Dean's delight. Sam sat in the passenger seat and fidgeted with his hands, glancing back at the younger boy as he coughed hard every now and then.

"What's wrong?"

"How did you pay for the hospital, you're not gonna get in any trouble are you?"

"Me? Nah, I'm untouchable."

"Dean…"

"Listen Sam, ask no questions and I'll tell you no lies. Let's just say the great banking system of America can afford it so it's all good."

Sam sighed in resignation and realised with an unexpected tinge of sadness they were coming up to the nearest cross street to their house. "You can drop us off anywhere here, we're only five minutes away. I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done. I won't forget it."

Dean pulled the car over and stared out the windscreen. "I really need both of you to stay another night or two with me, just to make sure. There's too many loose ends and I don't want to take any chances."

"Dean you've done more than enough for us, we can't…"

"Look I can drive you home and you can pack a bag and let anyone you need to know where you are but I need to know this is finished. I need to know you're both gonna be safe. Plus it'll take Emmett a coupla days to recover, he needs to stay warm."

Sam sighed as he thought over the medical instructions Dean had relayed when Emmett had been discharged. Emmett's body temperature was still a little low, a side effect of the demon Dean had told him, but he had to keep warm to stave off the possibility of pneumonia or infection.

"Is there television?" An excited voice from the backseat piped up.

Dean grinned. "Yeah Emmett there is but its Sam's call."

Dean didn't show the surprise he felt at Emmett's question but he knew he couldn't force Sam into coming back or he would run the risk of scaring him off altogether. It dawned on him then that these two probably didn't have much to go back to but Sam didn't seem like the kind of guy to share his problems so Dean didn't make him elaborate.

"Yeah…yeah okay but you have to let me pay for stuff and…and I have to work today." Sam wasn't comfortable with the thought of owing anyone anything but he needed to make sure Emmett wasn't in danger.

He also felt something else at the thought of hanging out with Dean a bit longer, something he couldn't quite describe. Sam knew it was stupid but it felt kinda good to be around someone apart from Emmett who wasn't drugged out or feeling him up. People always seemed to want something from him which was why he normally kept his distance unless he was on the job.

"Work…um…you really think that's a good idea…? I mean, you're still recovering and…um…" Dean was at a loss to elaborate but the idea of Sam out on the streets made him sick to his stomach. He knew that's what he did, what they both did but it wasn't right. It wasn't fucking right and he hated it.

"It's okay, it's not what you think. I also do a coupla shifts over at the garage across town. Just basic stuff and cleaning up and whatever." Sam didn't mention the fact that in addition to the legitimate work, two of the guys there also got him to service them on a regular basis. They didn't tell his boss he worked the streets and Sam got job security in return.

It was as close to a win win situation that Sam was going to get and it meant he didn't have to whore himself out every night to make ends meet. He wasn't qualified though and he was too easily replaced to miss a shift.

"Would you mind if Emmett stayed with you?"

"Mind? No. As long as he doesn't hog the remote we're good." The relief was evident in Dean's voice.

"Just don't blame me when he gets what he wants. I mean he plays the guilt trip pretty good." Sam found himself smiling as he thought how many times Emmett's subtle ways had won him over.

"Sam! I do not. And you're s'posed to be on my side."

"Good, so now that's settled how about we eat? I mean I can't have my brand new kid brother starving to death."

Sam smiled as he heard Emmett laughing in the backseat and it was a good sound. He remembered the comment Dean had made to him when he had laughed in the motel room and reckoned this guy was maybe doing them both good.

Maybe this was what happy felt like…maybe he could let himself pretend he was normal just for a bit.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Rating:** NC17**  
Warnings**: Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst,

Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!

**Summary**: Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street…then their worlds collide.

**Chapter Warning: Explicit rape scene**

**Chapter 7**

They had gotten Emmett settled on the bed and Sam knew the boy was still not feeling the best when he didn't protest the attention. Emmett might only be young but he was independent and he rarely showed his vulnerability except to Sam.

Sam brushed a hand across Emmett's face before he walked away. It was only a matter of time and Emmett would be away from here, with people who cared about him. Family.

"Sam come and get some coffee, you look like you need a boost."

"I…what about…"

"He's safe, this room is safe. And the coffee machine's in the office a few doors down."

Dean had seen the exhaustion and worry on Sam's face but knew if the kid was going to talk at all it wouldn't be around Emmett.

They had each poured themselves a large cup of caffeine and now Dean sat down on the curb beside the Impala and directly outside their room instead of walking back inside. He breathed in deep, almost closing his eyes as the sun's warmth seeped through his t-shirt. Sam hesitated before sitting down about two arm lengths away, curling his body over his bent knees.

"How you feeling?"

"M'fine."

Dean shook his head a little at Sam's automatic response. "Sam I know a line of crap when I hear it, especially when it's one of my lines you're using. So…how you feeling?"

Sam hung his head shyly not used to being asked this question. "Um…head hurts a bit."

"You cold? You keep shivering."

"Bit." Sam mumbled self consciously.

"That demon didn't um…kiss you did it? It's how it feeds…takes your life force, your soul I guess."

"No. It just hit me I think."

"Okay good. I think you're probably just cold because it touched you, it should wear off."

Sam frowned and lifted his head. "Is that what it did to Emm…is that what it was doing? Taking his soul?"

"Yeah but you kinda distracted it long enough when you became a human projectile. You know that was an incredibly stupid thing to have done…and incredibly brave. You could've been killed."

Sam blushed and dropped his head again, hair falling haphazardly across his face.

"Not many people would've done what you did Sam, you should be damn proud."

Sam lifted his head again, this time staring at Dean for several seconds before replying, bitterness lacing his words. "Proud? Do you know what I do Dean? I let guys pay me so they can choose between my mouth or my ass. I'm the reason Emmett got hurt, I'm the reason for this whole mess so why the fuck should I get to feel proud about it? It wouldn't have mattered if I was killed as long as Emmett was okay. If anything happens to him I…"

Dean watched as the fire in Sam's eyes was replaced with unshed tears. As the younger boy threw his half empty coffee cup down and moved to stand up, Dean's arm reached out of its own accord. He grasped Sam's wrist pulling him back down, unwilling to let the boy torment himself without hearing him out, without trying to get through some of the walls that had been built.

Sam froze like a deer in headlights. He was breathing hard and he just wanted to get away, find a dark corner somewhere because he had to shut these feelings down, he felt too exposed like this, it was too hard to feel like this.

At the same time, Sam couldn't bring himself to pull his arm away from Dean's firm and steady grip. He closed his eyes, instinctively bracing himself for a hit or worse but instead he felt Dean's hand loosen a little as he began to speak. He felt Dean's thumb rub back and forth across the skin on his forearm, he frowned a little at the touch, eyes still squeezed closed, but he didn't move away.

"I know what it's like to lose people you love. I know what it's like to blame yourself every single day because there must have been something you could've done differently that would've saved them. You saved Emmett Sam, you did whatever it took and you saved him."

Dean released his arm and Sam tried to swallow down the ache in his chest because he knew Dean was telling him the truth, he could hear the pain in his words, the catch in his voice.

"I already know you're smart and brave and a stubborn fucking ass and yeah Sam I know what you do to stay alive. I also know you wouldn't have chosen this life if you had a choice but see that doesn't stop me from being proud of what you did, even if I don't know you that well."

It was too hard for Sam to speak when he was barely able to contain the sobs that threatened to overwhelm him. He didn't understand the kindness, he didn't know what to do with it or how to deal with it. He did understand that Dean had been hurt though, and he realised that Dean had trusted him enough to be honest and open.

Sam held his breathe when a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder as Dean stood up. It felt warm and kind and it stirred his heart and a long forgotten memory of being held and safe another life ago.

"Take your time Sam, I'll go check on Emmett."

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It took Sam just under forty minutes to walk across town to Thompson's Garage but it gave him a chance to clear his head. Dean had offered to drive him but he needed the space after spending nearly every moment since last night with the guy.

He thought about what Dean had said, the way he had spoken, the way he had touched. Sam found it a little overwhelming to understand not only Dean's kindness but the way it had made him feel. Dean's words had surprised him but Dean's touch had made him feel like he had found something he never even knew he had missed and that scared him. That terrified him.

He had to start getting a little perspective though because it was foolish to start thinking beyond your own reality. Sam knew this was just a job to Dean and as much as he had made them both feel at home with him, safe, Sam had to just hit the ground running when Dean left. He had to focus on getting Emmett home and then…then it didn't really matter.

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Sam worked hard during his shift, relishing the physical work and pleased with the fact he had been trusted to do some engine work when one of the regular mechanics had called in sick. Maybe he could get skilled up and get a proper mechanics apprenticeship, a real job and make a life for himself after all.

He smiled a little thinking that his Dad would have been proud if he did that, followed his footsteps.

It was ten to six when his Supervisor checked his work and gave him a pat on the back. "Sam you've done as good a job as Mikey would've and without any of the bitching. Keep this up and I'll consider giving you some more shifts."

Sam grinned at Blocker, relieved he hadn't screwed anything up but also glad the day was done. Blocker had a fierce temper but he didn't give praise easily and hated slackers, Sam actually got on well with the guy.

A car horn blared from out the front of the workshop and Blocker checked his watch. "Oh shit, told the missus I'd be ready by now. Sam you help Steve and Riley lock up and I'll see ya Friday."

"Sure Blocker no problem." Sam's gut clenched at the thought of being alone here with those two but wasn't about to complain, maybe they just wanted to go home.

"Hey Sammy, hear you're the bosses pet today huh? Well we've been working real hard today too y'know so I think you need to share the love a little. What d'you say Ri?"

"Yeah, I could sure use a little stress relief. Lock the front door and get your ass back here kid."

Sam hesitated, wondering if he could just make a break for it but he knew they would get him kicked off the job or just it make it more miserable next time he turned up. "I really need to get home today, can we…can we do this another time?"

Steve walked past him without saying a word and pulled the roller door down fastening the bolts in the concrete floor and walking up until he was pressed against Sam's back. One hand surrounded Sam's throat, pressing into the bruises and making him wince while the other hand rubbed down his ass and between his legs. "Answer your question?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded, the quicker they got started the quicker it would be over. He wasn't naïve enough to fight them over this, it was his decision to work here after all and he was well aware of the conditions.

He grunted as Steve pushed him over to the tool bench, panicking a little as he was pushed hard against it, his already bruised flesh aching at the contact. They were normally a little rough but Steve seemed angry and that was never a good thing. He had seen the guy dent the bodywork of a customer's car with his fist when his girl dumped him.

"Okay I'll do it. I said I'd do it."

"Oh I know you will Sam but see here's the thing. You think you can show us up like some idiots, make the boss think you're better than us? Well we're gonna show you what happens when you do that."

He tied to push himself away but his head was pulled back by his hair and Riley was pushing a dirty cloth from the bench into his mouth and wiring tape was wrapped around his mouth and head holding it in place. Sam tried not to gag as he tasted oil and petrol, the acrid taste burning his already raw, swollen throat.

Sam's chest was pushed down onto the bench, tools and car parts pressing into his flesh as Riley forced his arms high on his back and used his bodyweight to pin him down as Steve yanked his jeans down to his ankles. His face was smashed down as he struggled, sharp stinging pain on his cheek and lip and he could taste blood.

"Just remember Sam, every time you fuck us over we fuck you bloody."

Sam tensed knowing Steve's dick was going to be pushed inside him but gasped behind the gag when cold steel was pushed against his hole instead and then forced inside.

He screamed behind the gag, tears running from his eyes as Steve began to push and pull the metal in and out of him hard and fast. "Guess I've found a new use for the socket wrench Sam. Bet you like it too seeing as you're such a little slut. Blocker doesn't know you like it up the ass Sam and we'll keep it that way s'long as you learn your place here. S'long as you remember you're our piece of meat."

Sam breathed hard through his nose as the wrench was pulled out of him, the bulbous end catching on his rim before coming free. Steve didn't pause before he replaced the metal tool with his hard cock, every thrust of his hips almost knocking the wind from Sam's lungs.

Sam made himself relax, let his body be used while his mind drifted away. He didn't think of anything, didn't dream of a better place or find good memories to hold on to. Sam just found a dark, quiet place where there was no one and nothing.

He vaguely registered when Steve pulled out of him, warm wet liquid spilling down between his thighs. Riley's cock pushed in easy, slicked with spent cum tinged red with blood. A spark of pleasure, hated and unwanted pulsed suddenly in his groin as Riley's longer cock began connecting with his prostrate. Sam's arms had finally been released but all could do was drag them up onto the bench and fold them around his head.

His knees sagged when Riley pulled his cock out and there was nothing to hold him up but the bench. Sam's head was pulled up by his hair and he looked into the smiling face of Steve, jerking in surprise when a hand squeezed around his cock and pumped. "Knew you liked it Sam. Maybe we should play rough more often."

"Make sure you lock up Sammy boy."

The men walked away from him laughing and leaving him to sink to the floor, sitting with his knees still spread and his hands limply by his side. His cock was half hard and all he could think was how sick he was if his body enjoyed that.

It was a good five minutes before his shaking hands were able to rip the tape from his face, and he pulled the oily rag from his mouth and leaned his head back against the leg of the bench.

He tried to swallow but ended up coughing and gagging as the acrid aftertaste burnt his throat. Falling in a heap to the side, Sam drew gasping breathes, whimpering in almost panic when he felt like he couldn't get enough air in his lungs.

It was another ten minutes before he fumbled his boots, t-shirt and jeans off and stumbled into the dark shower stall behind the office and showered in the cold water because Blocker wouldn't pay for heating. When he finally turned the water off he was shaking so badly from cold or shock but it didn't make any difference which one because he felt just as dirty and filthy as he started out.

Closing the back door of the garage, Sam moved on automatic but the voice in his head reminded him over and over that this is what happened when you got caught up in dreams you had no right to have.

This is what happened when you forgot you were worthless.

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Dean looked at his watch for about the tenth time in the last hour as he glanced out the window and then walked back over to where Emmett sat, sleepy eyes staring in the direction of the television screen. The concussion was still making the boy's head hurt but at least he seemed to be warming up.

Dean had spent most of the day researching and had already laid salt lines with a scattering of chrysoberyl and lead shavings amongst the grains because this case already had too many unknown quantities to take any chances.

At least the research was finally paying off and he had found a way to banish the demon, the only catch was that he had to make it a physical being, corporeal, before he could banish it. Which meant of course that it could wreak more physical damage but then he wasn't expecting a simple hunt. He knew damn well there was no such thing.

He looked down at Emmett grinning to himself briefly as he thought back on how easy it had been to make the kid laugh during the day. Although the young boy had got him good on several occasions having quite the quick wit about him, Dean had finally put his foot down when Emmett had tried to wrangle a beer, then it was game over. Dean still gave him full points for trying though.

"Sam normally take this long to work a shift? I mean it's after eight and…" Dean shrugged but didn't add the moon would soon be in the sky. The demon could be active anytime between moonrise and dawn although information on its behavior was sparse.

Emmett turned to look at Dean but dropped his eyes as he spoke. "Sometimes…I always worry bout him till he comes home. I gotta be back by midnight cause Sam reckons all the freaks come out after that but he…" Emmett switched the television off and turned back to Dean. "If he gets hurt or if it's been bad, Sam won't talk about it. He just sits and stares and doesn't even like it if I give him a hug. Maybe it was a bad day."

"Does it happen a lot? Does Sam get hurt a lot?" Dean knew he was prying but he couldn't help it.

"We all get hurt I guess and he's been hurt bad a coupla times since he started looking out for me but I think it hurts him differently y'know."

Dean smiled. "You're pretty damn clever for fourteen, y'know that? Bet Sam feels better having you around."

"He wants me to go live with my family but he won't come with me. I asked him to but he said I needed to make a clean break whatever that means. Will you stay Dean? Will you stay here with Sam? Please?"

"I…ah…I don't normally stay in one place for long kiddo. S'just part of the job."

"Sam's different around you. I think you make him feel better. You kinda make me feel better cause I know Sam doesn't have to worry so much y'know. Even though he probably still does."

"Well I don't normally have that effect on people, normally the opposite" Dean smirked before adding quietly. "But to tell you the truth I think I'm gonna miss you guys when I go."

"Can we go look for Sam now? Maybe he forgot and went home."

"Yeah, c'mon…maybe he forgot." Dean didn't want to think of any alternatives to Sam's long absence because none of them were good.

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Dean let Emmett lead him around the back of the boarded up house following the boy inside the back door into the near darkness. The house smelt of decay and other things Dean didn't really want to dwell on, the least of which was the sharp tang of marijuana smoke. He barely resisted the urge to draw his gun, usually only following demons, ghosts or other evil nasties into places like this.

They had weaved their way halfway through the house when a girl passed them in the narrow corridor, placing her hand on Emmett's shoulder. "Hey hon you alright?" She glanced behind at Dean. "You know Sam don't want you doing tricks here."

"S'okay Crystal, this is Dean. He's a friend not a trick."

Dean smiled, noting the girls almost black eyes. "What he said."

"Is Sam here?"

"Yeah sweetie, he's in your room, came in bout an hour ago. He's not talking though, didn't even look at me. Y'know how he gets."

"Maybe I'd better go in by myself." Emmett turned to Dean as Crystal stumbled off lighting a cigarette.

Dean followed Emmett to a partially closed door and nodded when the boy looked up at him. "I'll wait here."

Dean stood in the doorway as Emmett pushed the door open and walked inside. The room was dim, the faint glow of scattered streetlights shining in past the cracks in the boarded up windows. Emmett bent down and lit a single candle on the floor in the far corner of the room.

A hunched up figure sat in the opposite corner, elbows resting on bent knees and head resting down on his folded arms. Dean recognised it was Sam and something clenched around his heart as he took in the harsh reality of Sam's life.

He watched as Emmett knelt down awkwardly, cast tucked against his body and then moved so he sat next to Sam, almost but not quite touching as he spoke quietly. "Hey Sam s'just me, me and Dean. We got kinda worried bout you, thought you might be here."

"Sam?" Emmett only lightly touched Sam's arm but he flinched violently, lifting his head as though he had just woken. "You wanna come back with us now?"

"Please Sam."

Sam shook his head and rested it back down on his arms and Dean frowned when he heard the dull, lifeless voice. "S'okay, you go."

"No, not without you."

The silence stretched out for minutes and Dean began to wonder whether Sam was going to speak again but he barely made out the whispered words. "I…I can't. M'sorry Emm."

"S'okay Sam, I'll stay and look after you."

If he hadn't been watching so closely he would have missed it but he saw without a doubt the tremor of Sam's shoulders and he couldn't stand by any longer. Walking slowly into the room he tilted his chin at the younger boy. "Grab what you need and give me a minute with Sam okay. Please Emmett." He added as the boy looked at him defiantly for a second before he nodded and moved across the room.

Up close now and he could see the disheveled state of Sam's clothes, hear the muffled breaths that were trying to mask the boys distress.

"Sam?" he heard the sharp intake of breath but continued on determined to get through. "Sam I know you don't want to talk and you don't have to okay but things haven't changed. I need to keep you and Emmett safe until I know this thing isn't gonna hurt you. I know how much you look after that kid but I can't keep him or you safe here and he's too protective to leave without you."

"I'll..I'll get him to go. Tell him I'll be there later."

"See that doesn't work for me. I don't want anything to happen to Emmett, same as you, but your life is just as important Sam. I don't…I don't want anything to happen to you either." Dean paused as his eyes traveled over fresh bruises and cuts still visible even in the candlelight before speaking softly. "What happened Sam? How bad are you hurt?"

Sam lifted his head up from his arms and Dean's gut clenched at the desolate look on Sam's otherwise expressionless face.

"Another week or two and you won't remember either of us. Don't pretend this is more than a job to you…don't pretend you care about us. It's…it's not fair to Emmett, he's just a kid."

Sam's breath hitched as he tried to rein in the emotion in his head, in his heart, and he coughed sharply, trying to stifle it behind his hand but unable to stop the sudden wracking spasms that had him bending over double. The taste of oil and petrol were still in his mouth and his parched and damaged throat seemed to restrict his breaths as he tried to fill his lungs.

It was like the gag was still stuffed in his mouth and he could remember the feel of the cold metal being pushed inside him and the pain and fear. Sam had been raped before, more times than he wanted to recall but the aftereffects never lessened, it was something you pushed aside but never got over, and it wore you down a little more each time. Stripped away your sense of self and worth.

He could hear his own harsh gasps and he began to panic when he couldn't get enough air, hands clawing at anything within reach as he tried to lean forward.

Then there were hands on him and he couldn't do this again, he really couldn't, so he fought and hit and struggled as hard as he could because he just couldn't let them take any more.

He heard a voice through the fear, a soothing sound that seemed to cut through the thick of everything and he clung to it and held on to it with tightly clenched fists still pounding. He was raw and scared and there were cracks in his defenses big enough to fall through but Sam didn't know right now how to fix them.

Right now he just wanted to stop falling.

"Shhh s'okay Sam, it's me, it's Dean. S'gonna be okay, I've got you. You're safe I've got you."

Sam felt warm arms around him and for once he let himself feel safe because he was too broken and tired to fight it. He couldn't think, he couldn't speak, he was just grateful that the hands that were on him seemed to be holding him together instead of pulling him apart.

Dean held on to him as Sam grasped blindly, fearfully, at his shirt, deep dry choking coughs shaking his whole body. All he wanted to do was hold on to Sam and he couldn't understand why he felt so strongly about keeping this boy, keeping both of them safe and protected. But he did and Dean wasn't about to question the emotion, not when the boy in his arms was finally reaching out.

It took nearly ten minutes for the tremors to ease and finally, self consciously Sam released his hold on Dean as Emmett watched on anxiously. Dean however didn't let go and drew the boy in close to his chest, relieved when Sam didn't fight him.

"C'mon, you're both staying with me tonight." Dean rested his chin briefly against Sam's hair, speaking softly. "And you're wrong about me Sam…I do care."

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Dean held the motel door open while Emmett walked through, followed closely by Sam who was dazed and limping. Sam hadn't spoken since they had left the rundown house they called home.

Emmett had cried in the car, tears falling silently down his face until Dean had moved his arm around the kids shoulder, mindful of his broken arm and pulled him in close as he drove. Sam had sat in the backseat, folding himself in silently, head down and eyes hidden beneath his long unruly hair.

Sam was shutting down again.

"Sam? You feel a bit better now?" Emmett waited until Sam had walked into the room before he approached, looking up at the taller boy and speaking softly. He stood close but didn't reach out.

Sam nodded. "Bad… busy day at work."

Dean knew it was a lie and he was pretty sure Emmett knew it was as well but neither of them called him on it. He had seen the fresh marks around Sam's neck and the new bruises mottling his torso as his t-shirt had ridden up when Dean had helped him get to his feet. He wondered what other unseen injuries marked the boy's body even though he figured he had a good idea.

A silent rage had seeped through Dean's veins when he saw the way Sam moved, the pained expression he had tried to hide when he had sat down in the car.

"Here Emmett." Dean held out two white tablets he had shaken out of the container on the bedside table. "Take these and then go wash up. You feel alright to have a shower?"

Emmett's eyes moved between the two older boys as though he was weighing up his options before his solemn blue eyes came to a rest on Dean's face.

Dean knew the look and gave him a nod as he stood and walked over to the small kitchen, walking back with an empty grocery bag. "He'll be okay." Dean spoke softly addressing Emmett's unspoken concern although really he was just as worried.

"Here get your t-shirt off." Dean helped the boy slide the cotton over his cast and began sliding the plastic bag over the plaster securing the end with some discarded elastic bands off the table. "Now this is the best waterproofing I've got unless you want me to glad wrap you."

"No." Emmett managed a small smile.

"Okay pants next."

"Dean!" Emmett stepped back not realising the older boy was joking. "I'm not a kid."

Dean shook his head. "No?…I keep forgetting you're a cranky old man trapped in a midget's body."

He watched as the boy huffed off, trying to hide his grin. Emmett paused and spoke quietly as he neared Sam's down turned head. "We'll look after you Sam, me an' Dean'll look after you."

The bathroom door closed and Dean became aware that Sam's breathing had become loud and harsh in the near quiet of the room. He walked over and sat down carefully on the bed beside Sam.

"Sam, if someone hurt you…"

"Don't…please. I…I can't…"

Dean moved slowly and placed his hand over Sam's fingers that were twisting and clenching in front of him. He held them gently, thumb skimming over the back of the younger boy's knuckles.

"It's okay Sam. You don't have to tell me…just…if you change your mind I'm here. You don't have to go through this alone."

He watched as Sam nodded, looking away.

"I know you're hurting so make sure you take a couple more of those painkillers…and…and if you need to see a Doctor Sam, I'll take you. I'll stay with you okay. Just tell me and we'll work it out."

Dean moved his hand, not wanting to push too far and was surprised when Sam's hand caught his own and held on tightly.

"Thank you."

Sam's hand dropped away and Dean smiled sadly, briefly touching the boy's shoulder as he stood. Sam had been abused, probably raped and all Dean could do was offer words.

"You're welcome Sam."

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_a/n: Thanx for all the wonderful comments for this story. Also, if you're reading Slow Burn...I promise I'll post a chapter next week...I'm soooo sorry for the long wait!_

_*hugz*_


	8. Chapter 8

**Rating:** NC17

**Warnings**: Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst,

Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!

**Summary**: Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street…then their worlds collide.

**Chapter 8**

It was just after eleven when Sam got off the bed leaving Emmett sleeping soundly and walked slowly over to where Dean sat writing at the table, laptop open and books scattered around him as well as several guns and ammunition clips.

Emmett had only fallen asleep after making Sam lie next to him, both boys lying on their backs until Emmett curled over a little and leaned his head on Sam's shoulder. Sam adjusted his arm until it was around the younger boy, drawing him in safely. They had both been asleep within five minutes.

Dean had watched the exchange silently, still amazed at how protective the young boy was of Sam. Emmett knew the older boy was hurting and just found a way to give him what he needed without the pity or conversation that would most likely drive him away.

"Hey." Dean gestured at the vacant seat beside him. "You wanna sit?"

"Yeah." Sam sank slowly into the chair, closing his eyes briefly as though in pain.

"You okay?"

Sam nodded, eyes skittering down and away.

Dean sighed quietly biting his tongue on the words of protest that wanted to make themselves heard when Sam reacted like that, like he was ashamed. Instead he watched as the younger boys hands skimmed lightly over the texts and images in the old leather bound tomes that had belonged to Dean's father. Sam eyed the guns but didn't go near them.

'These…these things are real." It wasn't a question and Sam frowned before looking up at the older hunter. "I've seen some pretty weird things but this… are there other monsters, demons, out there?"

"Yeah, 'fraid so." Dean shrugged apologetically. "Sorry."

"I guess after seeing that…demon, I'm not surprised. Just maybe a little…worried."

"A little worried? Well most people I deal with either run screaming as fast and as far from me and the monsters as they can get. That or they just don't believe what they see, can't deal with it and think I'm crazy or trying to kill them myself. I'm not sure which is worse."

"Why do you do this, put yourself in danger for people you don't even know? Why do you care so much?"

Dean's smartass reply got lost somewhere between his brain and mouth as he looked at Sam's face. "S'all I know." He shrugged. "Family business I guess except I'm all that's left now 'cept Bobby, he's pretty close to family though. I figure if I do this then at least I'm doing something good, maybe evening up the odds a little and saving a few people before I…before I get taken out."

"How long you been on your own?"

Dean paused long enough for Sam to feel bad about asking, as though he had pried too much. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Sam wished he had the courage to reach out and touch the older boy's hands. He wished he could return the feeling of comfort it had given him but he couldn't make himself move.

"It's okay Sam I just…Dad and my younger brother Jared were killed a year ago next month. Doesn't feel like it was that long ago y'know? My mom, she…died when I was four so it was always just the three of us on the road until..." Dean rubbed a hand across his face hating the catch in his voice because he hadn't expected it, thought he'd put it behind him. Then again he'd never said it out loud before, not until he'd met Sam."

Sam could see how the memory was affecting Dean and didn't want to push him anymore. "You think this thing…this demon, is gonna come back?"

"Yeah Sam, I'm pretty sure it will." Glad for the change in topic, Dean pushed one of the books across the table, pointing at the illustration of a ragged limbed creature within a swirling mist with its mouth latched onto a young child.

"It was summoned by Michael as part of a ritual and he prepared each victim beforehand by thickening their blood with oxytocin and endorphins, inflicting pain and pleasure I guess. He took a little blood each time to create a potion before the demon killed them."

Dean paused as Sam lowered his head and looked away. "I should've known better."

"You couldn't have known." Dean clenched his hands to resist the sudden urge to touch Sam's face and turn it back to him.

"So…so what do we do now?"

"I know I've stopped the ritual but as best as I can translate, the demon can still track Emmett because it fed off his life force. Maybe you as well because your blood is in the potion, which I'm guessing Michael still has with him. I can't find a way to sever that link but I think I can summon the demon myself and banish it."

"So…so your saying Emmett is never gonna be free of this thing?"

"No, once I banish it Sam that'll be the end."

Sam looked at him, fear beginning to escalate at the knowledge that Emmett was still in danger. "How soon can you do it?"

"I'll go to the warehouse at dawn, it won't be as powerful during the day and I can put the summoning circle Michael drew inside a devil's trap. I also don't want you or Emmett anywhere near it, you'll be safer here.

"What if it comes after us?"

Dean was very aware of Sam's almost too calm manner now and recognised the boy was dealing with this threat to his friend by automatically going into protective mode. "It'll be trapped Sam, it won't be able to get out of the circle like it did before."

"What if it does? What do I do?"

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Sam gripped the handgun in both hands and pointed it at the wall of the motel room, trying to position his hands as Dean had instructed. Dean's voice low and quiet in his ear so as not to wake Emmett and suddenly he could feel part of the hunter's body pressed to his side as firm hands adjusted the grip he had on the metal, gentle but sure. Sam was almost mesmerised as the fingers slid over his skin.

Dean had finally relented and started showing Sam how to use a shotgun if only to occupy the younger boy and try and put him at ease. He had almost forgotten was it was like to talk to someone else about the job he was on. Even Bobby was usually on the other end of a telephone line and more often that not Dean had kept it brief, fearful of giving away how hard it was to do this alone.

He suddenly found himself unable to stop grinning at Sam's death grip on the barrel and the wide eyed concentration as he aimed at the cheesy motel painting of a cat and a saucer of milk.

"Relax Sam, you hold it this tight and your aim's gonna be all over the place. Salt shots don't need a perfect hit but you gotta at least be in the ballpark." He laughed and pointed at the cat. "Now make like you're gonna blast that evil little fucker."

Sam frowned for a second before he realised what Dean had said and then he smiled. "Yeah I reckon I could take it out. Seeing as you're too scared for this job."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Scared huh? Well let's just load this puppy and see shall we?"

"What? No! You can't…" Sam huffed as the older boy smirked back at him.

"Besides you've gotta brace yourself more or the kickback's gonna knock you for six."

Dean's touch was so soothing, it made the echo of violence from brutal hands start to fade away. Fade enough that he stood still instead of shrinking away from the contact.

Dean's hand moved along Sam's forearm as he centred the weapon but then he suddenly stilled and Sam drew in a shaky breath. There was something about the close proximity of the older boy that was affecting him as though Dean was radiating heat and suddenly Sam felt like he was burning up. He could feel the ghost of breath on his neck and turned his head to the side coming almost face to face with Dean, his face flushing when the hunter's eyes travelled to his lips before returning his gaze.

Just for a second he thought _wanted_ Dean to lean in and close the space between them.

He watched as Dean licked his lips and swallowed, heard something in the hunter's rough voice that matched the heat that had suddenly flushed his face.

"Good that's…good Sam. Then…then point it down to…to reload." Dean moved away slightly but not far enough that Sam couldn't see the way his jaw tightened.

Sam frowned a little, not understanding the disappointment that tugged at him when Dean moved away. When he couldn't feel Dean's fingers on his skin.

_Yeah that's right Sam, way to show this guy what a slut you are…_

Sam closed his eyes briefly because this wasn't like that, he knew it wasn't, he was almost sure it wasn't.

Dean wasn't sure what the hell had just happened but one minute he was teaching weaponry 101 and the next he was about to lean in and see if Sam's lips would taste as good as they looked. He mentally berated himself because that sure as fuck was exactly what Sam didn't want right now, even if just for a moment he thought he saw something in the younger boy's eyes. His resolve turned to dust though as the younger boy spoke.

"Show me." Sam's whisper was out of his mouth before he could stop it and he held his breath as Dean froze.

Dean's eyes never left his own as the older boy moved slowly back into his space and his hand ran along Sam's arm gently pushing the weapon down so it angled towards the floor.

"You gotta be careful…not to hurt anyone with these things." Dean voice caressed his ear and Sam suddenly felt like all the air had gone out of the room as he turned his head.

Sam moved so close he could feel Dean's breath on his mouth and then Dean leaned in, one hand cupping Sam's jaw while his mouth skimmed his lips.

Dean pulled back, so uncertain if this was what Sam wanted and not willing to let his own sudden desire take over. One hand was still holding the rifle with Sam while the other moved across the boy's face, watching as the hazel eyes almost closed at his touch.

"I've…I've never kissed someone like this before. I've never felt like this."

Sam's voice was so quiet, so honest and scared and raw and Dean recognised even then, this was the moment his heart understood what it had found.

Dean kissed Sam again then, and while it wasn't harsh or rough or forceful he let his desire flow through his lips as his tongue caressed Sam's mouth. When Sam's lips parted on a moan and his hand found Dean's, the kiss became soft as Dean licked inside and his tongue tangled with Sam's as they explored each other tentative and breathless.

The need to breathe more than anything made them break apart slightly, eyes wide and panting gasps as they inhaled each other's air. Dean bent his head down so their foreheads touched and he closed his eyes.

"I…I haven't either Sammy and it feels good."

Sam opened his mouth to speak when the light flickered and died.

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"Dean?"

Sam's voice sounded worried, possibly reacting to the way Dean had released him and grabbed the loaded rifle off the table and primed it, ready to fire. "It's okay, just stay calm."

The door of the room rattled and the overhead light flickered on briefly, imprinting Dean's vision with a white spot as he looked around in the near darkness.

"Sam? Sam what's happening?"

Emmett's voice sounded small and scared in the now silent room and Dean gripped Sam's arm as he went to move closer to the younger boy. "Take this and stay with Emmett." Dean placed a salt loaded pistol in his hands. "It's ready to fire so be careful but you see this thing, you shoot. And Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever I tell you to do, you do it, no argument."

"Yeah, 'kay."

Satisfied that Sam would listen, Dean concentrated on working out exactly what was going down. The light came back on and stayed on. He knew the salt line would stop any demon coming in…well, he corrected, any demon he knew about.

That theory held for about twelve seconds before the front door burst in.

The door was unlocked from the outside, Dean was certain of that, and as it hit the wall and he got a glimpse of the night manager with his coke bottle glasses and high waisted pants he wondered for a moment whether this was some bizarre episode of The Twilight Zone.

That was until he saw the knife being held against the guy's throat. He had anticipated demon not insane madman so the salt line was going to do sweet fuck all.

So, this was Michael.

Dean moved to stand between the door and the bed, rifle aimed squarely at the door and it's occupants.

"So I finally get to meet the man that screwed with my life."

"Pleasure's all mine you sick bastard. I can't wait to see how much you scream with a bullet lodged in your dick." Dean lowered the weapon to make his point, making the night manager whimper and squirm.

"Now Dean, and I'm gonna call you Dean seeing as Ernie here went to the trouble of checking his register for me, you need to speak with our friend Sam about that. I did nothing that Sam didn't want, didn't like, isn't that right baby?"

Dean clenched his jaw. "You leave him the fuck out of this, you drugged him and hurt him just like you did the others."

"Oh Sam, haven't you told Dean here how much you needed it, begged for it? How you kept coming back for more?"

Sam flinched as Michael laughed. He felt the hot sting of tears from shame and now Emmett and Dean both knew his dirty little secret, how fucked up he was. He wondered if Dean felt proud of him now or whether he just felt disgusted at the thought they had kissed. The gun shook in his hands but he kept it ready like Dean had shown him.

"Don't listen to him Sam. It's over Michael, leave now and you leave alive. Let this guy go and walk away."

"Really? No! You see I've made another deal Dean, not quite as juicy as immortality but another century isn't so bad when you've only got a month or two left to live. I've just got to deliver what I promised, so if you step aside you can walk out of here without a scratch."

"You see Michael that's just not gonna happen. You want to get to my friends you're gonna have to go through me."

Dean gripped the gun tighter as a white mist swirled into the room sending an icy chill across his body. He wasn't sure how the hell this was happening until he realised that Michael had just broken the salt line.

"Y'know I was hoping you'd say that Dean. And just so you know I'm deadly serious…" Michael sliced the knife across the manager's neck, blood spurting as a horrible gurgling sound was the only scream the man could make before he was thrown forward. "…let me show you."

"Fuck!" Dean moved in time before the dying man hit him full on but he was still pushed off balance as the dead weight skimmed his leg.

And then things went way south.

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Dean started firing even as he stumbled to the side but the doorway was now empty and the unfortunate Ernie now lay in a growing pool of blood on the floor.

"Dean?"

Hearing Sam's voice he glanced back quickly before speaking. "You two good?"

"Yeah."

"Okay stay…"

Dean didn't get the chance to finish. In the same second he moved forward to reseal the broken salt line a black shape, blurred by speed, smashed into him and sent him crashing into the wall.

"Sam!" He yelled out a warning and was relieved when he heard the gunfire, scrambling to his feet but watching in horror as the gun was knocked from Sam's hands before he could fire again. With lightening speed the demon gripped Sam's struggling body and sealed it's mouth against his lips, the younger boy's flailing arms immediately slowing then going limp.

Dean launched himself at the monster, unable to risk firing from that angle and not hitting Sam. He managed to push it off Sam and then he was thrown across the bed, landing on his side but still gripping the weapon and he fired off two rounds.

Sam had fallen half across the bed but Dean was relieved to see him moving feebly as Emmett shook him frantically.

With barely enough time to reload, the demon reappeared and grasped Emmett's leg, dragging the now screaming boy towards it. Sam's hand shot out and grasped the boy's arm, slowing his momentum as Dean fired again at close range.

As the demon dissipated, Dean bolted across to the table and quickly snatched up a piece of notepaper, thrusting it into Sam's hand. He gave Emmett's shoulder a pat although the young boy looked even more traumatized than Sam and seemed not to notice.

"Read it out loud when the demon reappears, don't stop no matter what."

"Sam?" Dean could see the kid was struggling, pale and shivering and bleeding from the nose, but he had no choice. There was no way he could read the spell without a devils trap securing the demon. He would have to keep it busy while Sam worked the mojo. "Sam can you do that?"

"Sam?" His hand cupped the younger boy's face, gently tilting his chin up. "You with me?"

"Yeah. I…" Squinting down at the paper Sam shook his head. "…I can't understand it."

"It's Latin but it doesn't matter, you just have to read it. I know you can do it Sam."

"'Kay."

Sam's unsteady nod was less than reassuring but a cold blast of air signalled the end of their respite.

"Emmett?" Dean half pushed the young boy over to where Sam now stood near the table by the door as he moved in front to shield both boys. "Stay with Sam."

He managed to fire two shots this time but the creature was ready, moving and weaving with inhuman speed. "Now Sam, start reading now."

The barrel of the gun was reefed up in the air as he fired a third shot and he felt the icy touch on his arm as it swung him off his feet. Managing to hold on to the cold appendage, Dean's fingers clawed for purchase as he regained his feet.

Sam's unsteady voice was dull in the background and was then blotted out completely when the demon's teeth sank into his bicep and he screamed.

"Dean?"

"Sam…don't…don't stop." Dean ground the words out even as he clung to the shifting black shape as it tore at his skin.

A ripple and shift and suddenly the ice beneath his fingers feels harder, becomes clearer as the mist dissipates. Sam had grounded the thing, made it solid, he was halfway there and Dean knew he had to hold on now more than ever. It would know it was trapped now and would be desperate to survive.

Sam stumbled over the words as they blurred and danced in front of his eyes. Dean's scream of pain had made him take two steps towards the hunter but then he reacted to Dean's command and kept reading. A part of his dazed brain all too aware that he had to finish this before it hurt the older boy any more.

He had two lines left and he almost held his breath as he tried to force the unfamiliar words out in a rush. Emmett's voice sounded startled next to him as the young boy moved past him, behind him, and he was down to the last sentence now. He moved his arm out to stop Emmett moving away but all he grabbed was air.

Down to the wire.

Another anguished moan from Dean and Sam could tell he was choking on the pain, trying to hold it back. And then there were three words left.

Three fucking words.

"Sam!"

At Emmett's voice, Sam turned and looked up from the scrawled handwriting as the last word left his lips, dropping the crumpled paper as his hands reached out in front of him before he really understood what he was seeing.

"Emmett?"

Sam caught the younger boy as he twisted around and folded forwards into his arms, a frown of surprise marring his young face.

"Emm?" Sam fell down to his knees unable to brace his own battered body enough to hold them both up. Unable to comprehend what was happening.

As Emmett's head lolled onto his shoulder, Sam stared into the smirking face of Michael. He stared at the bloodied knife in Michael's hand but reality still eluded him.

The glint in the older man eye's was crazed, insane, as he drew the knife back up over his head and stepped forward over Sam's hunched body.

If Sam was at all aware of Michael's actions, he showed no sign of it as he cradled the still form in his arms and calmly closed his eyes.

Dean could feel his fingers slipping, numbness creeping up his arms and through his body like iced water in his veins. It was getting harder to breathe through the agony ripping along his arm and shoulder as sharp teeth penetrated skin and tissue, right down to the muscle.

Sam's voice wavered in and out of his head as though someone was playing with the tuning and the frequency was getting fainter and more garbled with each passing second. A lucid part of his mind latched onto the voice and reminded him of the how and why of what he was doing and he groaned as his right hand somehow renewed its fierce grip on his attacker.

He let his body swing and dangle, a dead weight in the demons clutches as he sought to distract it from seeking out its intended prey across the room. His own flesh and blood the only diversion he had to offer.

It stilled suddenly, its jaw tensing impossibly tighter and he couldn't restrain the gasping agony that was torn from his lips as he realised he didn't have much fight left. His right arm dropped weakly by his side as his head rolled back on his neck and he hoped to God it would finish him. Prayed to some unseen deity that he had never believed in that somehow it would just finish him and leave Sam and Emmett in peace.

He dropped to the floor as it finally released his bloodied left arm and he tried to get back up but failed. Not completely done though, he lay on his back and clenched his right fist as the fetid breath signalled the demon's approach. A snarl was the only sign of its impending attack and Dean tensed his body.

"Fuckyou sonovabitch."

He slurred the words out but then the black shape was gone. The creature was just fucking gone and he squinted up through the blood and sweat and let out a laugh that sounded like a sob.

"Emmett?"

Dean heard Sam's voice then but there was something wrong, something all screwed up in the tone and it screamed at him to move. His body somehow rolled and he was pushing up with his good arm, forehead braced on the thin carpet as he got his knees under him and then he looked over.

Functioning on pure undiluted adrenaline and panic Dean pushed up with his legs and was running full speed in two strides before he dived as Michael raised the knife above his head. He saw Sam holding Emmett as though he had been struck blind by what was happening around him and in that second a deep and jagged fear swept though his heart.

As his body impacted the up stretched man, Dean's world hit tilt and fast forward and then suddenly there was just a rush of pain and confusion and then blessed nothingness.

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_a/n: Thanx muchly __o0FireDancer0o for your lovely review. Your settings are disabled so I can't PM you_!


	9. Chapter 9

**Rating:** NC17 Warnings: Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst,  
Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!  
**Summary: **Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street...then their worlds collide.

**Chapter 9**

The movement underneath him dragged him up from the dark swirling depths and dropped him deep in a sea of unrelenting pain. It was like trying to breathe in a firestorm where every gasp of life giving air only served to sear you from the inside as well. 

Opening his eyes blasted his senses as he came face to face with Michael's cruel features and Dean had reeled away before his body caught up with the movement and fired warning shots of pain through his system.

"Fuck, ohGodfuck."

Using his forearm to drag his body a little further across the floor, only one arm seemed to be co-operating but he didn't really have time for an inventory. Dean looked back and realised with great satisfaction that the movement had been Michael's death shakes. He took a second to relish the image of the knife embedded to the hilt in the bastard's chest, somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.

Dean had a sudden urge to reach out and twist the blade, hoping there was enough life in the body to feel the slicing drag of the metal but then his mind flashed back to the image of Sam and Emmett and _nononono_ echoed in his head and took over everything.

At first he couldn't move and it wasn't because of the pain. His mind had already began to shut down the parts that told him exactly how much it was supposed to fucking hurt and his body was about as responsive as a rag doll on Brotopon.

Dean's lack of motion was based more on the tranquility of the picture before him even as he knew damn well it was anything but what it seemed.

_the eye of the storm_

Sam sat legs crossed and eyes closed as he held Emmett over his legs and firm against his chest. His mouth rested against the boy's head as he rocked almost imperceptibly back and forth. Sam made no sound even as jarring shudders coursed through his body in addition to his rocking motion.

_the calm in the chaos_

Sam was oblivious to everything else.

_Sam couldn't deal with this_

"No. Please no." Dean's voice was broken glass in his throat as he got to his knees right next to Sam and slowly reached a shaking hand out to feel Emmett's neck. Even though he knew what he wouldn't find, it still hit him like a sledgehammer.

Sliding his hand further along he reached Sam's arm and rubbed it gently, trying to console the boy somehow but there was no reaction. "M'sorry Sam. God I'm so sorry."

Dean tried to swallow down the despair that wanted to reach up from his heart and strangle him but the sobs overtook him even though he knew he had to be the strong one here. There was no time for him to grieve right now because he knew there were things to be done and he had no choice.

It was his job to get up and deal because he was the soldier, the one that was supposed to protect against this, save people, hunt things.

Except he hadn't and now Emmett was dead and Sam was…lost.

There were sirens in the distance.

There was blood and bodies all around them.

They had to move.

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Dean's vision was blurred and he could barely stand but he managed to throw his things in the duffel and drag it and the weapons bag one handed out to the car because his left arm was no use at all.

He made a second trip with spare blankets and the backpacks Emmett and Sam had brought with them, throwing everything in the backseat. The sirens were getting close now but thankfully the few people staying at the motel hadn't ventured out from behind their doors to see what had happened. Gunfire tended to do that to most normal people.

Dean's mind was wandering a bit now and he was sweating and shivering as he leant back down towards the younger boy who hadn't moved from his position.

"Sam? Sam we…we gotta go. The cops…well they never get it right and I can't be around when they get here…" Dean eyes moved to Sam's blood covered shirt and hands. "…and neither can you. But I'm not leaving you here Sam. I'm not…not leaving you and we're gonna work it out okay…I'll work it out Sammy and you're gonna be okay."

Dean brushed a strand of hair from Sam's face as he spoke but there was still no response and he found himself watching Emmett's face, unable to stop himself from hoping the blue eyes would flutter open even when he knew it wasn't going to happen. He began to gently unwrap Sam's arms from the boy as best he could, Dean's left arm lying uselessly in his lap as tears streamed down his face.

Sam's hands clutched the young boy's shirt fiercely for a minute and Dean wasn't sure what he was going to do. Then Sam just let go, and as Dean watched Sam's hand drop to the blood stained floor he thought maybe this was worse seeing Sam just relinquish what had meant so much to him without a sound.

Dean lowered Emmett to the floor, the boy's now shattered cast making a dull thud as it connected with the tiles. It almost looked like he could be sleeping, his head turned slightly to the side, towards Sam as though even in death he didn't want to lose sight of his surrogate older brother.

Emmett was too young to have known so much fear and hardship. Lost for no fucking rhyme or reason and Dean didn't understand, couldn't quite grasp, how this boy's life had affected him so much so quickly and then just slipped through his fingers. Dean would have changed places in an instant but the notion was meaningless, impotent because it was too little too late now.

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The road was wavering in and out of focus and Dean knew he had to stop soon before he drove right off the road. If Sam wasn't in the car he wouldn't have cared so much.

He glanced over to the passenger seat and Sam somehow seemed like he was fading away right before his eyes. Sam wasn't dead but he sure as hell wasn't here either.

It had taken almost more strength than he could muster to wrap Sam's arm around his neck and somehow lift him off the bloodstained floor and half drag half carry the boy to the car. He hadn't even been able to lift Emmett on to the bed, he hadn't even tried. Just left him on the floor as he stumble stepped Sam out of the room.

Sam still hadn't spoken, hadn't cried, hadn't fucking yelled at him for letting Emmett die and Dean knew Sam was in shock but the silence was pounding in his head and clawing at his brain.

He jerked the wheel sharply to the left as gravel hit the underside of the car as the wheels veered onto the unpaved verge. He had left the highway to head towards the first small town on the marker. It took another fifteen minutes of fierce concentration and he nearly cried when he finally saw the flickering vacancy sign, unmindful of the almost empty parking lot and the peeling paint on the buildings.

"Sam? Sam, please…"

Dean ran his fingers down Sam's face as he crouched beside him in the open passenger door. His damaged arm, hidden beneath the jacket he had thrown over his shoulder when he had gotten them a room, was tucked uselessly against his body.

"C'mon gonna get you inside, get you warm."

Sam was still shaking but Dean felt cold enough for the both of them.

He gripped Sam's arm and pulled him out of the car, thankful that the younger boy was a least holding his own weight if nothing else, as he steered him towards the open door. He had already dragged his duffel and weapons bag into the room out of habit.

Some things never changed no matter how much you were hurting.

Dean used his foot to close the door behind them, nearly falling over in the process, his equilibrium shot to hell. It took him a few seconds to realise that Sam's hand now clutched at his waist and was probably the only reason they hadn't toppled to the ground.

"Sam?"

He watched as the younger boy frowned at his voice, eyes blinking rapidly as he made a small noise in his throat. Sam's mouth opened and he inhaled sharply, finally turning panicked eyes on Dean.

"Sam you with me? Just breathe slow okay." Dean managed to sit them both side by side on the nearest bed.

"I…I…Dean? Real…was it real?"

He wanted to lie, tell Sam it was just a bad dream and he'd wake up soon and everything would be fine. "Yeah, was all real. M'sorry…I'm…God Sam I'm so fucking sorry."

Sam frowned again and then started shaking his head. "No. You tell me the truth, it wasn't real, it couldn't be real because…because…"

When Sam's fists rained down on his body all Dean could do was shield his injured arm and let it happen. He didn't have the will or the energy to resist and Sam needed this, needed to get it out.

Dean deserved it.

The hits got less and Dean could see Sam's strength was fading as the younger boy's limbs began to shudder once again. It started out as just another tremor, the coldness from the demon's touch still echoing in his body. But as Dean watched, Sam's shoulders curled in and he began to sob, terrible gasping sounds of grief spilling from his lips.

"Emm…" Sam's voice was lost in his heartache.

"I know…I know. M'sorry Sam…I'm…"

Dean just pulled Sam into his body then, awkwardly wrapping his own trembling arm around the shaking body next to him until it melted against him, all anger replaced with anguish. Dean didn't have any words of comfort, nothing that could possibly come anywhere close to helping or consoling or mending this despair.

Clinging to Sam and holding him as tight as he could with the injuries he had suffered, Dean just listened to his own heart break in perfect time with Sam.

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Dean had lost all sense of how long he sat there but darkness now filled the room and the fire in his arm was beginning to rage out of control. He had eased Sam's body back against the mattress long before and now he needed to take something to dull the pain that was throbbing through his head and body.

He stood on legs that would barely co-operate and managed to get halfway across to the table by the door when the room did a lazy spin and he felt himself falling, black spots filling his vision. The floor met the side of his face jarring his teeth as he went down hard, exhausted and unconscious.

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Awareness seeped back in gradually for Sam.

The first thing he saw when his eyelids blinked open slowly was the blood stained skin of his fingers lying next to his face. The blood was smeared all over his hand, deepening in colour on the pads of his fingers and caked along the creases of his palm.

For a second he let himself believe the lie that his mind tried to fabricate of bad dreams and monsters and death but his heart told him the truth and the blood made it real.

Emmett was dead.

There was such an ache in his throat and his chest that made Sam feel like he had been screaming for hours. It felt like he had broken something inside his body.

It took him a bit longer to realise the noise he heard was the sound of his own teeth chattering between his shuddering breaths. There was a coldness so bone deep that it spread out from his head and travelled the length of his body then double backed, making sure there wasn't a single piece of him spared from the torment.

Sam was already lying on his side and he tried to curl his body in more to ward off both the cold and the realty but it didn't work. He couldn't shut out the feeling of loss and hurt and then he remembered Dean.

There were bits and pieces of hazy memory. Glimpses of Dean being hurt and screaming and Dean holding him and it all just served to confuse him more.

Finally sitting up and looking around the unfamiliar room, he saw Dean's dark shape motionless and face down on the floor, lit red then green from the neon lights flashing through the thin curtain of the single window.

"OhGodohGod…no."

Sam knelt down beside the older boy and clenched his shaking hand into a fist that was too scared to reach out and touch. He whimpered, the sound slipping from his mouth as he tried to summon the courage to see whether Dean had left him too.

To see whether he had lost everyone again.

"Dean?"

Sam's hand finally touched against the skin on the side of Dean's neck and he held his breath until he felt a pulse thrumming under his fingers. Relief swept through him and tears coursed down his face as he began checking for injuries.

Dean's left arm was a bloodied mess and Sam was careful to make sure he supported it as he rolled the older boy over, surprised when the movement elicited a deep groan.

"Hey Dean? Can you hear me?"

"Mmm…Jare…Jared?"

Sam watched anxiously as Dean's eyes opened slightly. "No, no it's Sam."

"Sam?" Dean tried to sit up, throwing his head back against the floor instead in obvious pain.

"Don't move, you're hurt okay. I need…I need to call an ambulance."

"NO! No hospital. Help…help me up."

"I don't…"

"Sam please."

Sam nodded and stood, walking round to Dean's right side before crouching down and taking Dean's good arm which was held out to him. He was able to take Dean's weight and managed to get him onto the bed where he sat panting and swaying.

"You should lie down, you're still bleeding."

"M'sorry Sam. M'sorry I didn't save him…I screwed up and…and s'my fault…I should've…"

"No Dean…not your fault." Sam shook his head and then squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds. "You need help, your arm's torn up and...and I don't know what to do."

"Holy water. Y'need to get holy water…s'in the trunk…silver thermos bottles." Dean reached clumsily into his jacket and held keys out. "Y'gonna need three or four bottles."

"'Kay…okay. You gotta lie down though."

Sam could see Dean was struggling and he knew he should be doing something more than this. Dean needed stitches, bandages, medicine not fucking holy water but he nodded and took the keys anyway.

By the time he returned, Dean had closed his eyes again and he placed the bottles on the floor and knelt beside the bed.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, yeah, m'good."

Dean opened his eyes and reached his arm out toward Sam. The younger boy grasped Dean's hand in his own.

"Listen Sam." Dean was starting to shake now and breathing hard. "Y'need to cut the shirt away then pour a bottle over the bite. You can't…can't stop no matter what you see…no matter what I do."

"Dean I can't…please." Sam was afraid now.

"Sam the bites got demon poison in it…not something any hospital s'gonna fix. It's gonna smoke when you pour it on and…and you can't stop until there's no reaction."

"I don't wanna hurt you."

"I…I know…I know Sam but s'just gonna get worse if you don't." Dean saw the tears running down the younger boy's face even through the pain haze. He moved his hand to Sam's face and traced a trembling finger down wiping away the wetness.

"Scared…m'scared Dean…m'sorry…I…I don't wanna lose you…I don't want you to go away…don't wanna be alone again.

"C'mere."

Dean strained his hand around Sam's neck and pulled him down, biting down on the fiery pain that seemed to be spreading through his veins.

"Not leaving you…not now 'kay. S'you and me now Sam."

He pulled down more until Sam's lips were on his and Sam's mouth felt like ice on the heat in his body and he groaned at the relief. Sam's mouth was gentle and needy and he just wanted to lose himself in it but he knew he was just putting off what had to be done.

As Sam's hands found his face, carded through his hair he turned his face away, worried more about losing consciousness now as his vision faltered and grew hazy.

"Sam…if I…pass out…y'need to do this again, every hour for at least four hours. That…that should be 'nough."

"Dean."

"Now…do it now. Scissors're in med kit…my bag."

Sam knew he had to move. Dean's voice was slurred with pain now and he was breathing harsh and laboured trying to hold it in. The kiss had torn Sam wide open and healed him at the same time, his need for Dean was something that had sunk in bone deep without him even realising it until Dean had pulled away.

He got the kit and found the scissors quickly, he couldn't think about this any more or he might not be able to go through with it and that was not an option. The bloodied shirt was already torn to shreds along Dean's left arm but Sam grimaced as it stuck to the skin when he pulled it out of the way.

Sam unscrewed the lid of the bottle and hesitated. He wasn't sure whether it was the chill that still threaded through his body or the fear that make him shake now.

"Do it Sam. You're gonna need…gonna hav'ta hold me down. Whatever it takes…s'okay."

Sam pressed his lips together and nodded, unable to speak. He placed one hand over Dean's left shoulder above the bite and took a breath as he tipped the bottle.

The reaction was instant and violent.

As the holy water touched Dean's skin it sizzled loud and angry and Dean arched his back and screamed, thrashing and trying to move away.

Sam stopped the flow of liquid as Dean wrenched away, gasping in shock at the pain he had caused.

"Oh God Dean…sorry…m'sorry."

"DO IT!"

Dean's voice was an anguished yell that spurred Sam into action and he tipped the bottle up again, trying to ignore the hiss from Dean's flesh as he pressed his bodyweight down on the older boy to keep him in place.

By the time the bottle was empty Dean was unconscious and Sam was sobbing in relief.

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He had moved from the floor and leaned in over Dean's right side, his good side, and placed his head on the hunter's chest. Sam could feel Dean's heartbeat every second then, and it gave him some comfort even though the older boy hadn't woken in the forty minutes since he had passed out.

Another twenty minutes and Sam lifted himself up as Dean finally stirred and moaned, his head shifting restlessly and turning from side to side.

"Dean?"

"Gotta get out Jare…get Dad'n get out….there's too many…"

"Dean? Can you hear me?"

"No…no…"

"S'okay Dean." Sam placed his hand on the older boy's forehead smoothing across the drawn features, trying to give some comfort even as he saw the first hour was now nearly up. He got up and half filled a glass from the tap, bringing it over and sitting back by Dean's side.

Sam lifted Dean's head a little from the pillow as he placed the glass to his lips and trickled a few drops into his mouth. Dean's eyelids fluttered and Sam was relieved the older boy seemed to be able to take a few sips although he wished he could do more. He tilted the glass again but after another swallow, Dean turned his head away moaning softly.

Dean continued to moan and move restlessly under his hand and it was now fifteen minutes past the hour. Sam picked up another bottle of holy water from the floor like it was a lead weight.

The reaction was just as intense and this time Dean managed to half rise up from the mattress, the force of his movement pushing Sam to the side until he could push Dean's chest back down until he was lying prone. Sam could feel the heat radiating out from the open wound and the bubble of the holy water on flesh made Sam's stomach turn.

Sam tipped the thermos up until it ran dry and Dean was a shaking, gasping mess.

"No more, no more…pls no…hurts…fuck…n'more."

Dean's voice was raw and slurred and punctuated with cries of pain but Sam did what he was supposed to do. When it was done he threw the empty container across the room and his hands smoothed down Dean's face and through his sweat soaked hair.

"Shhh s'over…s'okay…m'gonna look after you. S'okay Dean."

He lied until Dean was breathing easier and his frantic movements had slowed and then he felt the bile rise in his throat because Sam knew he had to do this again, hurt Dean again until it was over.

Sam stumbled to the bathroom and crashed to his knees over the toilet, retching and sobbing and hating himself for being so weak. He slid to the floor shaking cold and hot as thoughts of Emmett besieged him without warning.

Everyone around him died…anyone he cared about slipped through his fingers and left him behind…always surviving…always the one left behind. He knew Dean needed him now but maybe if Dean…_when_ Dean got better…it would be best if just left. At least that way Dean would be safe…away from him…and he wouldn't have to keep watching people die.

Sam moved on shaky legs and sat down on the end of the bed next to Dean's leg. He was close if the older boy needed him and he could see the clock on the wall from here.

Forty minutes to go.

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Sam poured the holy water and Dean begged him not to as he tried to writhe away, bucking weakly against the weight of Sam's body.

Sam only stopped when the last drops spilled from the bottle and Dean words were garbled and fevered sounds that made no sense but still made Sam's heart ache.

He pressed a cool facecloth to the seeping wound, wet with tap water in the hope it would soothe not cause more pain. He used another cloth to wipe the hunter's pale and clammy face, squeezing drops of water against his cracked lips because he couldn't get him to sip the water this time.

Sam could feel his limbs grow heavy and he could barely keep his eyes open for the last ten minutes. It had been half an hour since he had used the third bottle and Dean had settled quicker this time, the angry heat from the bite wound seemed to be lessening.

He lay down next to Dean, head resting gently on his shoulder and hand over the older boy's heart as Sam let himself rest. He just needed to close his eyes for a minute because exhaustion was seeping through him and clouding his thoughts and he was just so tired.

Sam still hadn't stirred three hours later.

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	10. Chapter 10

**Rating**: NC17  
**Warnings**: Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst,  
Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!  
**Summary**: Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street...then their worlds collide.

**Chapter 10 **

He had learnt to wake without moving, without giving himself away or making a sound. It was the nature of survival and being a hunter was all about instinct and survival.

Even then the odds were still stacked against you.

Dean knew he was hurt and bit back on the groan that wanted to escape his lips as his body thrummed with ache and his brain pounded against his skull. It wasn't the first time he had woken in pain with no recollection of how and why and where and no doubt it wouldn't be the last time.

It wasn't long though before the memories began trickling in and they soon became a flood of events that swamped him as he drowned in the harsh reality of total recall.

"Sam?" His voice rasped out the name as his eyes opened.

There was pressure on his arm and warmth on his chest that drew his eyes and he grimaced as the movement sent a spark through his arm. It was worth it though to find the younger boy near him, safe.

He frowned at the pale skin and bruised shadows under the younger boy's eyes, his features pinched and worried even in sleep. Of course there was good reason for Sam's obvious state of exhaustion and grief and most of the blame could be laid at his own feet.

Dean had turned his body a little and flexed the muscles in his left arm before he realised his mistake. He gasped and groaned softly letting his head spill back onto the pillow, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

"Dean?"

The voice was whisper soft and sleepy and Dean had never heard anything as good.

"Yeah Sam. You okay?"

Dean winced a little as Sam struggled to sit up, surprised when unsure fingers touched his forehead and then Sam's eyes widened in what looked like fear.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"I fell asleep. Oh God Dean m'sorry, I should've…I don't know how long I…"

"Sam stop it's okay. I'm…I'm okay."

"Is it over?"

Dean heard the pleading in Sam's voice and he couldn't not reassure him even though he knew he'd still have to make sure. Demon poison was a bitch and he had to neutralize all of it.

"Help me up Sam."

Dean held out his hand, frowning at Sam's hesitation.

"Is it over?"

"Sam…"

"Please Dean."

"I've gotta make sure all the infection's out but I can do this one. You've done enough Sam. You've done more than you should've had to do and thank you for looking after me and…and I'm sorry."

Sam moved slow and tired across the room and Dean could see the boy could probably use about a week's sleep but he came back to the bed with a cup of water.

"Here, y'need to drink."

Dean let Sam help him sit up a little, conscious of Sam's hand behind his neck trembling but still strong. He didn't realise how thirsty he was until the cool water touched his lips and he closed his eyes as the liquid slid down his parched throat.

"Thanks." Dean paused. "Sam can you bring the med kit over, there's a blue plastic bottle and I need…three tablets."

"Yeah Dean. What are they for?"

"Pain meds, the good stuff." Deam managed a grin.

"Jesus Dean I should've thought of that, God you haven't had anything."

"Couldn't before Sam, needed to try and keep a clear head and they're pretty strong. I would've been out for longer and I didn't want to…I wanted to wait."

"Your arm's still…there's still poison in it I think."

Dean glanced down at the red lines still radiating out from the wound even though he could feel the poison without needing to see it. "Yeah, got me good." He dry swallowed the tablets and then took the cup again and drained it.

"I'm…I'm gonna do this now." Sam reached down and picked up the last flask of holy water from the floor. "I should've already…" Sam shook his head. "I didn't mean to fall asleep…you could've…you could've..." Sam's breath hitched.

Dean reached out and gripped Sam's wrist, running his thumb along the skin on Sam's forearm. "No Sam, I'm okay. Give it here."

Sam shook his head, tears glistening in his eyes as he refused to look at the older boy.

"S'okay." Dean reached over and gently took the metal flask wedging it up against his body before using his hand to tilt Sam's face up. "I'm gonna do this and then we're gonna sleep some more."

Dean hoped he was past the worst of it and gritted his teeth as he unscrewed the lid awkwardly with one hand before taking a breath and pouring the liquid over his own arm.

"Fuck…sonovabitch."

Dean steeled himself until there was nothing left in the container and his vision swam, greyed in and out until he just closed his eyes altogether trying to block the sensations out. Until there was nothing except the buzzing in his head and the fire in his arm and the fingers on his face, over his heart and someone calling his name.

"Dean? Dean it…it worked…it worked. Y'gonna be okay."

"Sm?"

"M'here Dean, you hear me? You're gonna be okay."

"Yeah, m'okay." Dean squinted up into the anxious eyes and realised he was flat on his back again. "How long was I out?"

"Not long, coupla minutes." Sam tried to smile because it had only been a couple of minutes this time but it had still seemed too long especially when he didn't really understand what was happening to Dean.

He had watched as the holy water had sizzled against Dean's skin briefly, the sound and smell still making his stomach tighten in knots. Then as Dean's hand had began to shake, Sam had wrapped his fingers around the older boy's hand to steady it, relief and amazement engulfing him when the water had abruptly ran clear and smooth over the wound. Even as the last drops had tipped from the flask, the angry red veins that had marked the damaged skin and pulsed with poison seemed to almost disappear.

A cold shiver ran through Sam's body but he didn't notice as he absently traced a scar along Dean's right shoulder, not even aware of what he was doing until a hand captured his fingers.

"I'm sorry…I…" Sam moved to withdraw his hand but Dean's grip tightened.

"Why…why are you sorry?"

Sam looked down, his teeth nervously catching his lower lip as he tried to collect his thoughts and find the answer for himself so he could explain it to Dean.

"I kept thinking if I held on to you…if I could feel your heart then you wouldn't go, wouldn't leave me. When I'm with you I feel like I'm real, like I matter. Then…then I think about Emmett and I shouldn't get to feel like this, I shouldn't get to feel good."

"Sam…" Dean smiled and brought Sam's hand to his chest. "…Emmett loved you. The way he talked about you, worried about you…you were his family. He wanted…would want you to be happy. It's just hard…" Dean lost his voice for a minute as both new and long buried grief worked its way up his throat and burned his eyes. "…it's hard to keep going at first."

Sam watched as the older boy's eyes glistened with unshed tears and he nodded as his own anguish and confusion washed over him.

Dean released his hand and Sam closed his eyes as a gentle touch brushed down his face before sliding along his jaw, through his hair. He felt himself lean into Dean's hand and only opened his eyes when a soft pressure on the nape of his neck drew him down against Dean's body. He saw something in the deep green eyes that reflected his own heart and couldn't think anymore because the desire to lose himself became too much.

The downward pressure eased off and Sam somehow understood that Dean was leaving the choice to him. He settled to the side of Dean's body, careful not to disturb the injured arm, and then he paused for seconds before slowly touching his mouth to Dean's lips. Sam felt Dean's mouth caress his own as they gentled into the kiss.

Dean's hand moved back up to tangle in his hair and Sam let out a soft moan as he felt himself give in to this, give in to Dean. Awash with such emotion he needed the warmth, needed the touch. Just needed.

Something changed in the air between them then, something clicked into place and fitted together.

The sound Sam made against his lips made Dean's body react and he pulled him in close, his one uninjured arm tensing around the younger boy's shoulders as he slid his splayed hand down Sam's back. Sam's mouth opened and Dean sank his tongue inside, suddenly wanting to discover every inch of this boy's body and know every sound he made. It felt so good to be pressed together, it was like nothing Dean could remember in the countless one night stands and random hook ups that had littered his life like debris strewn along a highway.

Dean knew what this wasn't even though he hadn't really worked out exactly what this was yet.

He felt Sam's hands tentatively move across his bare chest and he suddenly wanted to feel Sam's skin next to his own. He pulled at the hem of Sam's t-shirt and started lifting it up along his back.

"Off." He hardly recognized the sound of his own low voice.

They broke the kiss only long enough for the thin cotton to move between them and their mouths were on each other again even before Sam had lifted the shirt over his head. Languidly kissing and sucking on each other's lips as their tongues delved back and forth, Dean began to notice Sam become more confident, more passionate as his kisses pressed harder.

Sam's body was warm skin over sleek muscle and Dean was surprised to feel the strong tremor that shook through the younger boy's body.

"Sam what is it?" Dean moved his head away trying to read Sam's face, see if he was in pain.

"M'cold. I feel cold inside, it won't go away."

Dean felt relieved, at least it would be temporary. "It's okay, it's just from the demon's touch and it'll pass in a day or two." He paused frowning for a second before he spoke because he needed to know, needed to make sure and he didn't trust his own instincts right now. "You okay…with this?"

Sam nodded meeting his gaze with eyes that were far too dark, pupils blown and lips moist and swollen from pressing and moving against his own.

"God Sam, you're beautiful." Dean was hardly aware he had spoken out loud because he had to taste Sam's mouth again and he groaned as the younger boy engulfed his tongue, tilting his head to give more access.

Dean swept his hand down Sam's neck and over the bare skin of his chest and then further down and across to his hip, the firm pressure of his hand sinking just inside the waistband of Sam's jeans. He could feel his breathing become heavier as the kiss intensified and he wished to God he could use both his arms and envelope Sam completely.

Sam's hands clutched at his shoulder and back, making him wince slightly as his injured arm was jostled a little in the embrace. He could feel Sam becoming almost frantic with need, hips rocking now in time with the thrust of their tongues. Dean was half hard and blissed out but he also felt the slow drag of the pain meds kicking in and his body was slowly beginning to fall.

He could feel the hard bulge of Sam's cock against his body and using his left leg, he pushed his body to the side facing Sam, leaving his injured left arm dangling almost behind him on the mattress. The pain intensified but he distracted himself with Sam's mouth before sliding his left leg over the top of his right and pushing it between Sam's knees.

As he slid his leg in and pushed the top of his thigh up against Sam's cock, Sam broke the kiss gasping and throwing his head back exposing his throat.

"God Dean…mmmmm…so good."

Dean licked along Sam's neck as he moved his leg forward and up again to meet Sam's downward push as the speed of their movement began to increase. The younger boy began to pant and whimper as he pushed down harder each time, now grinding his cock along the hard muscle of Dean leg and squeezing his own thighs together holding Dean in place.

Dean's senses were drifting now and the smell of Sam's sweat and arousal were thick and heady and he bit down on Sam's neck, teeth and tongue savouring the taste and heat. As he nipped at the mark again he felt the young boy's whole body tense and arch against him as a long, low moan slipped from Sam's mouth.

Sam trembled again but this time from the aftershocks of his climax and Dean pushed up once more as he slowly dragged his thigh out from between Sam's legs and lay back flat on the mattress. His body felt heavy and good and the pain was a dull ache in his arm as Sam nestled back against his side and trailed fingers down his face.

"Thank you." Even his tongue felt too thick and heavy.

"For what Dean…I didn't…"

"For letting me…I…I haven't felt…felt anything in a long time…always alone."

"I know." Sam's voice was ragged with emotion. No one had ever kissed him like that before and he was still shocked at the desire that had flowed through his veins. The pain, the grief, the guilt…everything, had just fallen away and Dean's touch was the only thing that existed. Dean saw who he was and still wanted him.

Except now as Dean began fading into much needed rest it all crashed back down on top of him, the guilt and grief of losing Emmett, the fear of losing Dean and all the doubts and insecurities of who he was. Sam's past was like a different kind of poison that killed you slowly, killed you quietly and no amount of holy water was going to save him from it.

_poor boy they're all dead. _

_you're such a good little slut. _

_you needed it, begged for it. __  
_  
"Sam?"

"Yeah?" Sam blinked at Dean's voice.

"You…you gonna stay? I…I can't…um…" Everything seemed to be receding slowly

"Dean? You okay?"

"Mmmmm…tired, jus tired."

"S'okay go to sleep."

"Pls…stay."

"Yeah Dean, I'll be here when you wake up."

Sam smoothed back the hair on the older boy's face and watched as Dean's eyes fought to stay open, stay on him.

"M'sorry…m'sorry Sam." Dean's voice trailed off then and his eyes finally slipped closed.

"Shhh…nothing to be sorry for Dean."

Sam rested his head on Dean's shoulder and wondered how the hell he was going to walk away from this one good thing.

Bu then walking away had to be easier than being the last one left.

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He hadn't slept, he just lay there in the dark against the warmth of Dean. He could still feel the ghost of Dean's hands and mouth on his skin and the way everything had just melted away.

Tears wet his eyelashes because it was too nice, too good and he didn't deserve this, not after everything. Sam couldn't stay still any longer and moved to sit up when he realised in horror he still had Emmett's blood on his skin. He already had cum on his jeans and his dead friend's blood had hardly dried.

_you're such a good little slut. _

Sam stood in the shower under the hot water, his hands were braced against the tiles and his head rested on his forearm. The water pounded down on his back and he closed his eyes against the stream of water that ran through the long strands of his hair and coursed across his face. He knew Dean would sleep for a while yet.

No matter where he tried to focus his thoughts they kept coming back to Emmett and Dean but had to stop this, he had to work out what he needed to do. He didn't have a hell of a lot of options really, knew he'd have to go back because at least he had a place to stay and a job. Maybe he could get more work at the garage, pay his dues to Steve and Riley and just get on with it.

If not, he could always find someone with a dick eager to fuck him over if he needed the cash. It's what he did, what he was good at so why fight it?

He hated this feeling of no control, he always had, but he'd never seen a way to overcome it before now. It had always stayed inside him, eating away at the edges of everything until sometimes there was only the fear left and that's when he locked himself away in the dark.

Sam reached out of the shower and caught the edge of his jeans, pulling them over and reaching in the pocket and grasping the cool metal in the palm of his hand.

Sam could feel himself breathing hard now in anticipation as his mind fed on images of the way Michael had shown him the knife before he had marked his skin.

_…Do you want peace Sam? _

He felt his cock twinge when he remembered the way the blade had felt slicing through his skin and the painpleasure of what came after and Sam almost cried out in disgust at himself, stricken with how badly he wanted this and how much he hated it all mixed together.

The blade flicked open almost of its own accord, like it could see how much Sam is longing to feel it and Sam stared at the thin, sharp metal.

He dropped to the tiles and reached up turning the taps off before leaning back against the wall of the shower, knees splayed and cock heavy between his legs. There's no hesitation and he dragged the blade across the skin of his inner thigh, slow and hard, down and in until his hand pressed against his erection and he groaned as the ache followed the blade.

The bright red river spilled out across his soaked skin, moving quickly down his thigh and onto the tiles. He watched as it mixed crimson pink with the pooling water on the floor and then meanders towards the drain. It's like a part of him has been released, a pressure valve opened and suddenly he can breathe again without feeling like he's underwater.

He makes another cut slightly above and parallel to the first, drags the sharp edge slower and a touch deeper this time and lets his head tilt back against the tiles for a minute and just savors the pain and the warm spill of fluid over his skin.

Sam looked back down almost mesmerised by all the red, the colour of his self loathing as it seeps out of his body. His cock is still hard and suddenly he wants to make it go away but can't bring himself to touch his own body like that, not after the way Dean had caressed him like a lover.

Instead he digs his fingers into the bloody skin and claws at the wound until the pain takes any pleasure out of his body and he's trembling and sweating at the effort. Sam takes a deep breath and turns the cold water tap on, jumping at the shock of the iced water over his body but making himself stay there until the blood washes away and any evidence of his shame is gone.

When Sam emerged from the bathroom in borrowed track pants, water still glistening off his semi dried skin and dripping from his hair, he felt calm. Relieved to find Dean still peaceful and sleeping, Sam looked between his bag and the door but then settled on the bed beside the older boy.

He had made a promise to be there when Dean woke and he would keep his word. It was the least he could do for someone who had shown him what it felt like to be loved.

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Dean stretched, almost half awake and aware he was safe but forgetting briefly about his injured arm until he moved.

"Ow fuck…holy crap."

"Dean? It's okay, just move slow."

Dean glanced over as he growled at Sam in response, pain and the fact it was morning making him grumpy but then regretful when he saw the surprised look on the younger boy's face. "God Sam I'm sorry man. Not a morning person and fuck…" Dean sat up with a groan. "…not the best patient."

"S'okay."

Dean looked at Sam's almost ashen face and damp hair as the boy stood beside the bed. "Hey, did you get any rest?"

"Yeah."

Watching as Sam averted his eyes, Dean reached out and grasped his wrist then gently pulled the younger boy towards him. "Hey c'mere."

He knew Sam would be scared and confused, hell that's how he felt and this was his usual gig. The last thing Dean was expecting though was for Sam to pull away from his touch and look like he was about to bolt out the door. Not after the way they had moved together so intimately, not after the way Sam had kissed him.

"What is it…what's wrong Sam?"

"I…I should go. If you're feeling better…then I should…I need to go."

"What?" Dean was dumbfounded and the word tumbled softly out of his mouth as though he had misheard.

"I need to go back." Sam swallowed and stared fixedly at the threadbare carpet underneath his feet.

"I thought we…that we could…I was hoping you'd stay Sam."

Sam smiled but it was gone from his face before it had reached his eyes. "I can't."

"Why not? I thought…I thought you felt something between us. I know I did Sam and I guess I don't want to just leave it at that. Not after…"

"That's just it Dean…" Sam mind was a chaos of pain and emotions and he was so close to letting the truth spill out. It was so tempting to confess his fear that everyone around him died and he couldn't go through it again, he couldn't let his heart be exposed like that ever again. It was easier though just to twist the truth. "I can't stay with you and be reminded about… this." Sam looked up briefly. "I just can't."

Dean felt like he'd been sucker punched but he didn't show it. Hunter's were good at hiding themselves away when they had to because showing weakness, exposing vulnerabilities was more often than not a health hazard. Besides, he couldn't blame Sam for feeling that way.

"Yeah…yeah you're right Sam." Dean nodded. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry I didn't do enough…I…I'm sorry I didn't save Emmett."

"Dean that's not what I meant, I don't blame you, it wasn't your fault…I just…" Sam struggled to find the right words that didn't hurt Dean but he got lost somewhere between hope and heartbreak.

"Don't Sam, it's okay. Can you at least wait another day and let me drive you back. I don't think I'm up for it today but I really would like to take you back. Know you got there alright. Please."

Sam knew he should say no and walk away now but there was something in the older boy's voice that shattered Sam a little more. Dean wasn't fighting him on this and he should be glad, it was for the best but he still didn't want Dean to think he was to blame. He had to at least try and fix that before he left.

Sam nodded. "Okay."

There was a silence between them then that stretched on and for a minute Sam was sure Dean was going to close the gap between them and hold on to him. Something inside Sam's heart clenched in anticipation, willing Dean to touch him again.

The moment passed though and Dean cleared his throat and stood on shaky legs before slowly making his way to the bathroom, left arm cradled against his body. Dean turned and braced himself against the door frame, holding Sam's eyes briefly before speaking.

"I'm never gonna forget you Sam."

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	11. Chapter 11

**Rating:** NC17 Warnings: Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst,  
Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!  
**Summary: **Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street...then their worlds collide.

**Chapter 11**

_**Chapter Warning**__: __**Details of underage rape and abuse**_**.**  
**  
**Dean managed to close the door behind him, somehow both numb and hurting at the same time. How could he have expected Sam to have feelings for him after he had been responsible for Emmett's death? How could he have been so stupid to even think about feeling like this about someone he had only known for days, and someone who wasn't even a part of his world.

He threw his head back against the wall in frustration and anger.

The only problem was that he did feel like that and he wasn't sure how he was just going to let go and watch Sam go back to…even his mind stuttered over the fact that he would be sending Sam back to a life on the streets alone. The very thought of someone else touching Sam…abusing him…hurting him…there had to be another way.

He couldn't help but hate the fucking Gods of fate for letting him meet Sam this way…showing him something so good and then taking it away from him. Maybe he knew how Sam felt after all, they had both lost so much.

At the end of the day though, maybe Sam was better off without him and the dangers of the world he lived in, especially when it was painfully obvious that he couldn't save everyone.

His head hit the wall again.

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An hour later both dressed in clean clothes, they had left the motel and walked ten minutes down the dusty road and now sat in a small town diner under the scrutiny of a handful of locals. Dean couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten and Sam looked like he would disappear if he turned sideways.

It felt good to be out of the room, even if his arm ached like a bitch and the pain meds were messing with his equilibrium a little more than he had anticipated. He had managed to bandage his arm, the wound was too ragged and open for stitches but it seemed to be no worse. He could actually use his hand a little as long as he didn't strain his bicep too much. Dean figured another couple of days and he could start looking for the next hunt.

Sam had been subdued as they had made the slow walk over to the diner, almost back to how he was when Dean had first met him and it hurt to see him this way. Dean wasn't really sure what to do or say, he was still dealing with the inner turmoil of wanting to beg Sam to stay because no matter how much Sam hated him, the thought of Sam out there alone was almost too much.

They both ordered burgers and fries and Dean was attempting to eat one handed while Sam seemed to just move the food around on his plate.

"C'mon Sam you need to eat man. Even if you don't really…"

"You think he's in a better place?"

"What?"

"Emmett. You think he's someplace better now? Happy?"

Dean paused, uncertain. "Yeah…yeah I guess. I never…I mean I don't really know if I believe…it's not like I pray or anything so I'm not the best person to ask y'know."

"I used to pray when I was a kid. We used to go to church and say grace and all that stuff but now…" Sam shrugged. "What's the point right? But I think there might be a better place when you die…even if it's just nothing."

"Nothing isn't better Sam."

"Nothing would be easier than…this."

"Yeah being dead is easier than living but that's the whole point. You know you're alive because it hurts sometimes, there's choices and pain and happiness but that's the journey."

"You saved his soul, that's gotta mean something right?"

"I hope so Sam, God I hope so."

Dean pushed his plate away, food almost forgotten now as he reached across the table and put his hand over Sam's, just wanting to understand.

"What happened to you Sam? Why can't you go home? I know you don't want to stay with me but there's gotta be some other option."

Sam was surprised at how calm he felt at Dean's question because that Sam, the one with a home and family, had been gone a long time. That story had been buried away in the dark place for years and only surfaced sometimes in the middle of the night when he woke to the sounds of his own screams.

He wasn't sure why he started talking, maybe it was the feel of Dean touching him that made him want to reach out. Maybe it was the way his other hand pressed through his jeans into the cuts on his thigh that made him want to spill his secrets out in the open so Dean could finally see how fucked up he really was.

"I was ten…" Sam took a breath because this pain was somehow still able to claw at him and shred him to bits. He felt Dean's hand tighten even as his own fingertips dug into his leg, grateful when the ache began to let him focus. "I was ten when the car accident happened. My parents and brother and sister were killed and I…I wasn't."

Sam nodded and Dean could see the younger boy wasn't really there with him now. Dean remained silent, giving Sam as much time as he needed to continue.

"The orphanage was okay. I was there for about three years cause they said they couldn't find any family members that would take me. My parents got married young against both family's wishes, my mom was pregnant with Jacob, so they were kind of cast out I guess."

Sam frowned and paused thinking about the next part, the shame he felt even remembering his foster home wrapped around his chest like a steel band.

Sam began to breathe harder and Dean slid his hand along Sam's forearm rubbing gently, wondering if he should stop Sam now before he got himself too worked up. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Sam in any way even if he desperately wanted to understand Sam's life and how to help him.

"It's okay Sam, you don't have to keep going if it's too much. I'm so sorry about your family."

"When he first started…raping me…it was only once a week. George's wife Margaret started to go see her sick mum every Friday and get back on Saturday afternoon. He would just fuck me and it was over for another week so I just…I didn't stop him…sometimes I begged him not to but I never stopped him. After a while he made me do other things…told me he'd tell people what a slut I was if I didn't do what he said…he…he took pictures of me…made me…"

Sam shook his head but his eyes never left the tabletop and his voice was quiet, almost devoid of emotion as he continued. Dean watched the younger boy's face closely but had no idea that when Sam started speaking again he was no longer in the diner but back in that house on the night he ran away.

"George had card nights on Saturday and they would play poker but this week he had made it on Friday instead. I stayed in my room, I was glad about it because George normally stayed in the garage all night with his buddies and drank and smoked and we never saw him until the next day…but…but…he said I had to help."

Sam shuddered and unconsciously drove his fingers in hard against the cuts on his leg, wanting, craving the physical pain over the emotional torture.

"They raped me and God it hurt so much…they pushed inside me and I screamed and screamed but they kept holding me down and they didn't stop."

"Sam enough…" Dean broke the silence now because he could see Sam was struggling too much but Sam continued as though Dean wasn't even there.

"There were six of them and they were drunk and…they took off my clothes and held me down over the card table and they fucked me and when they'd all had a turn they made me kneel and suck them…and they burnt me with their cigarettes and pissed on me and hit me and…and I didn't stop them. I don't remember getting dressed or leaving but I just got as far as I could before I ran out of money. Then…I didn't know what else to do…I didn't know what else to do…"

Sam was shaking.

"Enough Sam, that's enough."

"…I didn't know what else to do…so I let guys do things…fuck me…to get some money…I don't know what else to do…"

"Shhhh it's okay Sam, I've got you now."

Dean stood and quickly threw some bills on the table to cover their meal as he walked around to Sam, roughly wiping his hand over his own face unsurprised when it came away wet.

If he was in any doubt before about letting Sam leave it had now been replaced with a fierce determination to never let him go.

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Sam had walked silently beside Dean all the way back to the motel, not leaning into Dean's arm around his waist but not protesting either.

Dean wasn't sure if he was trying to hold Sam up or trying to stop himself from falling down in anguish at what Sam had been through.

As much as Dean hated seeing the way these memories had devastated the younger boy it also served to drive his resolution home hard to make sure that Sam never had to go through this again. This instinct to protect Sam and keep him close was so strong it almost took his breath away because the last time he had felt like this was with his brother.

He could still feel Jared's dying body in his arms and suddenly he had to push that memory away before he drowned in it.

He sat Sam down on the bed, unable to stop himself pushing the hair away from Sam's downturned eyes before he walked over and rummaged through the first aid kit. He needed pain meds but he made do with Ibuprofen instead of the prescription stuff because he really needed to focus.

He shook a couple more out for Sam because he needed him calm and he was pretty sure Sam was still suffering from shock and exhaustion and God knows what else.

"Here, take these for me." Dean took Sam's hand and placed the tablets in his palm, offering the cup of water when Sam complied wordlessly.

"I'm sorry Dean."

Dean's exhaled in relief when he heard Sam's voice. "For what Sam?"

"I have to leave."

"No, no you don't." Dean sat down beside Sam, close enough but not touching him.

"I told you I…"

"Listen to me okay, just hear me out." Dean took a moment to study the dark eyes and tired features of the young boy beside him.

"What you've been through Sam, no one should ever have to deal with that and I'm sorry. And I know you're hurting now…I understand that…I wish to God I could've saved Emmett…but I'm gonna find someplace safe for you Sam even if you won't stay with me. Some place where you can live your life, go back to school maybe, whatever you want to do okay…but you're not going back. I won't let you."

"Dean…"

"You've trusted me with so much Sam, please just trust me on this." Dean closed his eyes because he had to get this out, he felt like he had to explain himself before he lost the nerve.

"When I look at you…I see someone so courageous and honest and I just want to know everything about you, I want to know how to make you smile Sam and I want to know how to make you feel good and…and I want you to stay with me but…but I know you don't want that. I know people, good people who can help you find your way, get a new start. So please Sam, please trust me and let me do this because…fuck…" Dean's voice caught rough in his throat as the ache in his chest spread up and just about strangled him. "…because I care about you."

Sam sat and listened as Dean spoke, he heard the words but he also heard in Dean's voice so much pain and honesty and it spread through him and it sparked something inside him that he wanted to hold on to so badly.

It was terrifying to acknowledge what was in his heart and push aside the logic that screamed at him to run and not chance being hurt again. The fear loomed large and real, pulsing in the darkness of his mind and he knew it always would be lurking in his life waiting to cripple him. It made him hesitate, made his heart beat so fast he thought it would explode right out of his chest but he finally managed to speak.

"I want…I want to stay with you. I don't blame you for anything I just…I can't lose anyone else Dean…I can't do it again."

"You'll stay with me?" Sam felt Dean's hand on his arm and looked into Dean's wide eyed stare and managed a smile.

"Yeah. Is…is that okay?"

Sam watched as the older boy briefly closed his eyes and then looked at him with intensity. "It's so much more than okay Sam."

Sam moved his hand over Dean's and slid their fingers together, blushing a little. He felt dizzy and scared as hell and like he had just leapt off a cliff with no safety net, freefalling until the warmth of Dean's grip steadied him. "Can I kiss you?"

"You never have to ask for that."

Sam leaned in towards the older boy, staring into the deep green eyes that seemed to draw him in like he belonged.

As Dean's mouth opened for him, Sam's pulse seem to skitter through his body because this was really happening. He moved his tongue into the warmth and felt Dean's mouth close around him, tongues sliding against each other, gently caressing.

He turned his body more, hands seeking Dean's skin as his whole body relaxed into the kiss. Sam didn't even realise that tears ran down his face until Dean pulled away, softly tracing his thumb along the wet skin.

"Hey, s'gonna be okay."

"Yeah. Yeah I know."

Dean heard the uncertainty still evident in his voice and pulled Sam against him with one arm, his fingers running through the younger boy's hair and down his neck. "Not gonna let you go Sam."

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They sat on the bed, Dean's back resting against the headboard and Sam lying against his right side. Dean can't remember feeling like this since he had his brother and father with him, like he's found a place in the world again where he wants to be.

They had spent most of the day talking, watching television and just lying close together. Their touching hadn't gone further than deep intimate kisses and Dean was conscious of not pushing Sam too far. He understood Sam needed the contact and he knew he did too but there was no need to rush this, not after everything Sam had been through, everything he had told Dean about his past.

Dean had already decided they would do this at Sam's pace, whatever he needed, because this felt like something special and they had all the time in the world. Not even the aching pain in his arm could dampen his feeling of contentment.

"That was awesome."

Sam stretched as the credits rolled for The Hunt for Red October.

"Yeah, I forgot how much I liked that movie. It was one of Dad's favorites."

Sam moved to face Dean but jarred Dean's left arm in the process. The older boy did nothing more than wince but Sam could see he was in pain.

"You don't have to do that y'know."

"Do what Sam?"

"Hide it from me if you're hurting. I…I want to know…I want to help."

Dean sighed. "I'm a little out of practice Sam but yeah, I'll try okay."

"So does it hurt much?"

Dean shook his head. "I can handle it."

"Dean?" Sam's exasperation disappeared when he realised Dean was messing with him. He got up and started looking through the med kit. "God you've kinda got everything in here."

"Yeah, I'm just a regular boy scout."

"Do you get hurt often?" Sam couldn't help the worry in his voice.

"I'm good at what I do Sam but yeah, I guess it goes with the territory."

Sam nodded and held up a pill bottle. "Is this what you need?"

Dean nodded, resigned to the fact that the Ibuprofen wasn't quite enough. "Yeah Sam, I'm sorry. I'm thinking another day and I should be off them."

"Don't be sorry Dean."

"Sam it's gonna make me sleep, great company for you." Dean took the pills and water Sam offered.

"You have no idea how much I don't mind." Sam sat back down next to Dean, his fingers playing with the worn fabric of the comforter. "I'm still…I still don't believe everything's that happened y'know and now…now I get to stay with you. I keep waiting to see if I'm gonna wake up from the dream. Just being here with you, whether you're asleep or not it's…it's good."

"I um…you gotta tell me if I screw anything up Sam. I mean about anything…I don't want you to think I've got all the answers here cause I sure as hell don't and…and I've never really been in a serious relationship." Dean blurted the last part out before he lost the nerve.

"I guess that makes two of us then. We can screw it up together."

"Or not." Dean's voice softenend.

Sam took the now empty cup from Dean and stood, his back cracked and he groaned in discomfort. "Hey you feel like going for a walk, get some food before you nod off? You don't have to, I could bring you back something."

Dean felt fatigued even though he had done nothing but he could see Sam needed to move and he had never been one to take it easy on himself. "Yeah okay, s'long as you carry me back if fall asleep in the diner."

Sam laughed. "What would I get in return?"

Dean just watched mesmerized as the younger boy's face almost shone with mischief, dimples and teeth showing and those dark eyes full of life. "Anything you want Sam."

Sam blushed and looked away sheepishly at the innuendo in Dean's voice before meeting the older boy's eyes and replying in a quiet but sure voice. "I'm gonna hold you to that."

"I was hoping you would."

They had actually eaten and sat in the diner for over an hour until Dean was stumbling over his words a little and Sam began to think he really might have to carry the older boy back to their room. They had bought some food and supplies to bring back and Sam started unpacking the items, placing the food in the small mini fridge in the kitchenette and putting the other items on the counter beside the sink. He enjoyed doing even these mundane tasks, lost in thought until there was a loud thump behind him.

He turned to find Dean pulling items out of the first aid kit, huffing in frustration.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I need to change this bandage and…crap…" Dean bent down to pick up the items he had dropped off the table. "…this sucks."

Sam walked over and took Dean's elbow pulling him upright. "Let me okay? You're arm just needs time to heal. Let me do this."

"It's not…" Dean stopped himself and nodded instead. If he wanted Sam to trust him, open up to him, then he needed to do the same. "Okay."

"Um…" Sam frowned. He really wanted to do this but the fact remained he had only really treated his own injuries and they had been nothing like this.

"Here, just cut the old one off, run the scissors underneath the cloth."

Dean's calm voice and gentle hands moved the younger boy through his initial hesitation and soon Sam found himself winding the new dressing over the broken skin. His hands were unsteady, fearful of causing pain, doing something wrong, but growing surer in their movements as he went. Eyes squinting and brows knitted in concentration, Sam finally taped the end of the bandage down and leaned back a little.

"Good job Sam."

"Really?"

"Yeah, n'thanks. Feels good."

Sam grinned. "S'probably just the drugs, y'know."

"Nah, s'just you. Y'make me feel good."

Sam shook his head as Dean struggled to speak. "How bout you grab a couple of hours sleep."

"What're you gonna do?"

"I might go for another walk, get some air. It's only just after four."

"Y'can take the car."

"I can't drive."

"Huh, we're gonna have ta fix that y'know."

"Sounds good but maybe not right now." Sam laughed softly.

"You okay really? You're not gonna leave are you?"

Sam leaned in and kissed Dean on the mouth. "I'm not gonna leave."

Dean could see Sam was being honest with him and he nodded in relief, giving in to the slow wave of drowsiness that had been creeping up on him for the past few hours.

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Sam turned the television off and carefully climbed off the bed making sure not to disturb Dean. It hadn't taken long for the older boy to fall asleep and Sam almost reconsidered his decision to go for a walk but he really had to move, stretch his legs, try and get his head around what was happening.

He closed the door quietly and set off along the road, deciding to go in the opposite direction than the diner and see what else was in the small town. He hadn't realised how wound up he was until he was able to physically stretch out, and he had walked for over an hour before he knew it.

It was like he was starting again and not alone this time but with someone he trusted and felt safe with, someone who seemed to care about him. He was actually beginning to believe it was real and it gave him hope, made him feel like there was light at the end of the tunnel. Memories of Emmett and how he had failed the boy shifted around his thoughts though, making him remember that his happiness had come at a high price.

Tears filled his eyes, hot and stinging because he would never forget how Emmett had filled a place in his heart like a brother and now, just like his family, Emm was gone from him. The guilt and sadness at this loss rivalled the hope he felt inside and he was left with an almost overwhelming confliction of emotions warring in his head and heart. The mental struggle was too much for Sam to deal with and he pushed it away, buried it deep then distracted himself by pushing his physical boundaries instead as he began to run.

It was getting darker and the shadows along the dusty main street were lengthening as he passed a handful of craft shops and eateries set up for the seasonal tourist trade. Stopping at the end of the block, Sam decided he should turn back and crossed the main street to return along the other side of the road. He had just checked his cheap wristwatch, almost amazed that it still worked at all when he was surprised by a car that pulled up alongside him.

"Hey, wanna lift?"

Sam froze midstride and stood panting, legs suddenly unsteady. He knew that line, heard it many times before and for a second he couldn't work out where he was, what he was doing.

He shook his head, eyes glued to the sidewalk.

"C'mon we can have some fun. Isn't that what you're doing out here, looking for some fun?"

Another voice and Sam glanced at the car to see three guys in the beat up sedan, all looking at him. There were still people out on the street, cars driving past and shops still open but he felt like he was in the middle of nowhere and cornered with nowhere to hide.

He looked down again but he couldn't speak or move and his thoughts were on a fast forward loop.

_…they know what you do…everyone can see what you are…good little slut…  
_  
Sam had no idea how long he stood there but when he looked up, the car was gone and he was alone.

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The room was dark when he opened the door, glad he had taken the room key so he didn't disturb Dean. He softly closed the door and took a breath, he was covered in sweat and his heart was still pounding from running most of the way back to the motel.

He stripped his shirt and shoes off, rummaging around in his backpack for the few clean clothes he owned and came up empty. He sat down at the small table and leaned his head into his hands, unable to understand how such a small thing could make him feel so lost and vulnerable.

"Sam?"

Dean's voice made him jump.

"Yeah, s'just me."

"You okay?"

Sam watched as Dean sat up and smiled at him, and suddenly he needed to be in Dean's arms. He needed to belong to Dean and make the older boy understand he could have anything, everything of him. Sam crossed the short distance and stood before the bed, the words failed him for a minute because he was terrified of the answer.

"Sam…?"

"Need you Dean. I…I want…to be with you…"

"C'mere Sam." Dean voice was soft, comforting as he lifted the sheet up and made room next to him.

Sam sat on the bed and let Dean pull him in until they were pressed against each other, Sam lying half on top of the older boy.

"What brought this on?"

Sam shook his head. "Want someone to know me, know who I am…Just want you. "

"You got me Sam."

Sam felt Dean's lips against his and opened his mouth as his hands pressed into the older boy's bare chest. He frowned as Dean pulled away and leaned against him, forehead to forehead.

"Talk to me…tell me what you want."

"I want you inside me…want to feel you…touch you." Sam's voice was a whisper between them. "Please."

Dean felt his heart race at Sam's honesty, as his senses drank in the younger boy's flushed face and heated skin. He hadn't expected, dared to even hope Sam would want this, be ready for this, and now he had to take a step back before his own needs took over.

"Sam…Sammy I need to know for sure. You don't have to do anything you don't' want…I wouldn't…"

Sam moved back and nodded. "I've never wanted this before Dean…never…and I know I've been used…"

"Nothing you've done in the past matters to me…only what's here and now between us."

Sam nodded.

"Just us Sam." Dean watched Sam's face as he gently pushed him down on the mattress and began to kiss slowly along his jaw as he let his fingers roam over the younger boy's bare chest. "Let me show you how good it can be."

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	12. Chapter 12

**Rating:** NC17 Warnings: Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst,  
Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!  
**Summary: **Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street...then their worlds collide.

**Chapter Warning: Very explicit boysex scene – Don't like, don't read!**

**Chapter 12**

Settling over the younger boy, Dean's upper body pressed into Sam as he looked down into the widened hazel eyes below him, looking for any sign of uncertainty. Instead he found trust and longing and an unspoken consent that made him nod back and made his heart soar.

Dean fingers caressed Sam's skin, lightly tracing down his neck and across his shoulder, feeling the younger boy tremble under his touch. His mouth sucked along Sam's jaw, kissing then nipping before his tongue wet over the reddened skin.

Moving down to Sam's neck, he began sucking hard until Sam's fingers were in his hair, on his back pulling him back so their lips were once again joined and their tongues rolled and writhed inside each other's mouth. As Sam groaned, Dean pulled away again and slid his tongue down skin until he found a pulse point in the side of Sam's neck and he sucked and worked at the smoothness until the younger boy was moaning.

Dean's own heartbeat was racing, his passion outpoured in the firm press of his mouth and the touch of his hands as they continued to roam slowly down the slim muscled body beneath him. He was awed at both the way Sam was giving himself in to this and the way the younger boy responded almost feverishly to his every touch.

His fingertips brushed over the hard nub of a nipple and Sam arched off the bed, breathing hard and making a low sound in his throat. Dean moved quickly, sliding down until his lips surrounded the hard bud and his tongue began to flick over it, back and forth.

"Mmmm…" Sam's head began to move and shift restlessly on the mattress, tilting back as Dean began to rub and tease Sam's other nipple between his thumb and index finger. "Oh God…"

Dean was panting as he alternated between sucking and flicking then grazing his teeth over the sensitive nub. As he moved across and began working on the other nipple he felt Sam begin to thrust his hips, his cock brushing the side of Dean's body as he still lay half over the younger boy.

Dean groaned at the feel of the hardness against him, knowing it was for him and he wanted to feel Sam against him. All skin, nothing in between.

He moved his left hand down to Sam's jeans, the movement straining the damaged muscle in his shoulder but not enough for him to stop what he was doing. As he popped the button and began to inch the zipper down he leaned forward and brushed his mouth against Sam's lips.

"Want them off Sam." As he hooked his fingers in the waistband and started pulling the denim down Sam lifted his hips and slid them down his own long legs. Dean took in Sam's slim hips and muscled stomach, nuzzling Sam's neck briefly as his hand skimmed over the bulge in Sam's cotton boxers.

"So hard for me Sammy, want to see all of you." He paused again for Sam's consent, given with a nod and a blush as he turned his face away. Sam hoped Dean didn't see the cuts on his thighs, or realise what they were.

"Hey, what is it?" Dean ran his thumb down the side of Sam's face. "Talk to me."

"You're looking at me…and I'm…nervous I guess."

"S'okay I'm a little nervous too."

"You are?"

"Yeah want this to be perfect. Want to make you feel so good, not screw it up y'know?"

Sam nodded, taking in Dean's words and comforted by the fact the older boy shared his anxiousness. He was losing himself in Dean's touch and he had never kissed, never been kissed or touched like this before and he felt so content, so…loved.

Sam sat up a little and rolled so they were both on their sides facing each other.

"Want to see you too." Sam grinned shyly and let his index finger fall down along Dean's chest and abdomen, feeling the muscles twitch underneath until he came to the elastic of Dean's boxers. "Wanna make you feel good too."

Taking a breath, Sam slid his hand underneath the loose material and pressed his palm flat against Dean's skin as he pushed along and over hip bone and then down to muscled thigh, taking the thin cotton down with the movement. He lifted the elastic and pushed down, letting Dean's full cock come between them, sticky drops of pre-cum wetting his hand as the older boy's erection jutted out from his body. Dean slid the boxers over his legs and kicked them off.

Without thinking, Sam circled the thickness with his hand, thumb rubbing gently over the wet tip.

"OhGod Sammy…mmmmsogood."

Sam felt his own cock pulse between his legs as Dean thrust into his hand and he needed Dean's mouth again, pushing his tongue in between the older boy's slightly parted lips. As he delved inside the wet heat he felt Dean tug at his shorts and he lifted his body to help, not worried anymore just wanting to feel Dean's body against him.

Releasing Dean's cock to slide out of his boxers, Sam gasped as he felt Dean's hand slide over and down his hardness. Firm slide down and then up, slow and torturous and he couldn't help but arch his back and thrust his hips into the touch.

Another slide down and then Dean's hand was gone for a moment suddenly returning, gripping him and pulling his cock in firmly against Dean's hardness, fingers wrapping around them both. The deep growl of pleasure came from both of them and in one mind they began kissing frantically as they pushed together, hip bones clashing as they began to grind and pump against each other.

"Dean…sogood…unnggh…sogoood…mmm..."

Sam felt the heat and pressure build within him, unable to stop the rhythm of his body as the friction and pleasure and slick sliding ecstasy had him so needful and wanting.

So close.

The loss of touch and pressure made Sam open his eyes, sweat stinging the creases of his eyelids as he gasped and panted.

"Dean..please…"

Sam wasn't even sure what exactly he was asking for but thankfully Dean seemed to understand his needs.

"God Sammy wanna taste you, swallow your cock." He felt the older boy whisper against his ear and all he could do was groan in reply. Dean slid down his sweat soaked skin and as Dean's hot breath touched the wet head of his erection, Sam pushed his hips up unable to hide his lust.

"Please…"

Dean's tongue slid out and lapped at the crown of Sam cockhead, licking at the engorged skin and smearing pearly drops of pre-cum across the slit before sucking just the tip into his mouth. The reaction from Sam was instant and made Dean harder than he thought possible as the younger boy groaned sinfully, bucking and writhing as he sought release.

Dean moaned, almost growled as he opened his mouth and took Sam's cock, timing his swallow with the upward thrust against him so the hard velvet thickness slid deep into his throat. His hands found Sam's hips and stilled them, controlling how much he took with the movement of his head, slowing the pace enough so he could savour the taste and feel and smell.

The weight and salty heat of Sam in his mouth was intoxicating, and with each slow drag of his mouth up along Sam's shaft he flicked his tongue and began pressing against the slit before diving down again and taking as much of Sam's length as he could.

One hand moved from Sam's hip and slid between Sam's thighs to press behind his shaft and then grasp at his balls, kneading and rubbing as he moved up and down faster on Sam's cock.

"Dean…Dean…ohGod…nnngh…nnngh…"

Releasing Sam's hip and pumping the base of his shaft instead, Dean let Sam use his mouth, concentrating on relaxing his throat and breathing through his nose as the thrusts became faster.

He felt the pulse in his mouth as the first drops hit his tongue and then Sam cried out, body strung tight and muscles flexed as his cum spurted hot in Dean's mouth.

Dean slid his mouth up so that only Sam's swollen cockhead was in his mouth and then he sucked hard, pressing his tongue just underneath the slit.

"Dean…" Sam arms were flung out to the side, hands fisted in the bedsheets as his hips shuddered and stilled momentarily before dropping back to the mattress. He whimpered as Dean's tongue followed him down and moved around his spent cock, before finally releasing him.

Sam felt one foot slide down the bed, his other knee dropping away to the side as Dean began to move up his panting body. His hands reached down, urgently seeking the older boy and clutching, drawing him closer, faster.

So much emotion bubbled within Sam but he had no words, just the urgent need to touch and kiss, be kissed. Show Dean who he was and how much this meant to him.

As Dean's mouth found his own, Sam felt the hardness of Dean's cock slide against his own and another thrill raced through him as the last waves of his own orgasm ebbed away. Letting the older boy plunder his mouth, Sam groaned at the taste of his own cum mixed with the taste of Dean.

Sam could feel the need burning in Dean's kiss as their teeth clashed in a passionate press of lips and tongues. He needed to breathe but all his body could do was succumb and respond as Dean's heat seemed to cross the boundaries between their bodies and infuse him again with desire.

Dean broke away, barely, lips still touching and Sam swallowed down his exhale, inhaled his whispered breath.

"Need you Sam…God…need to be in you now…please."

"Yes." Sam wasn't sure how he managed to speak at all because he could hardly get enough air in his lungs and the throbbing ache between his legs was setting him on fire. "Dean…want you…yes."

Sam saw the way Dean looked at him then, really looked into his heart, maybe into his soul, searching to make sure he was ready for this and Sam held on to him a little tighter.

They held each other's gaze for seconds and Dean nodded, giving Sam's mouth a firm kiss before he moved his body to the side and sat on the edge on the edge of the bed. "I um…wasn't really organised for this…" He chuckled quietly as he walked over to his duffel before returning with a small tube.

As he climbed back onto the bed, kneeling beside Sam's naked body, the younger boy turned on his side and rested his hands on Dean's thighs as he leaned forward.

The smell of Dean's sex was strong and Sam's tongue licked once over the head, lapping again as more sticky fluid oozed out at his touch.

"Jesus Sam…not gonna last if you do that."

Dean's voice was raw, strained and Sam grinned as he flicked his tongue, one hand closing around the base of the older boy's erection. He sucked Dean's length into his mouth, closing his eyes as he felt the slow glide of Dean's thrust.

"OhhhGod…so good."

Sam felt Dean's hand caress down his cheek tracing over the swell of his top lip as it arched around the older boy's hardness. Sam opened his eyes and looked up as Dean's finger pushed inside his mouth as well, Dean's dark eyes watching him intently.

"God… Sam."

Sam couldn't take his eyes off Dean as he thrust forward so gently, so carefully, and then the older boy's head dropped back on his shoulders as he groaned and his hips thrust forward again, slow circular motion before he pulled out. His fingers traced across Sam's wet lips.

"Can't wait Sammy… want to come inside you…please."

Sam moved then and began to turn his back to Dean, kneeling on hands and knees.

"No baby, want to see you…need to see you."

Dean gently manoeuvred Sam onto his back, the younger boy melting into his touch.

"You okay?"

Sam answered by way of sitting up and grasping Dean's head in his hands as he kissed him hard, nodding as he pulled away and leaned back into the mattress pulling the older boy down on top of him.

Dean quickly squeezed some lube out on his fingers and then coated his own cock, unable to stop pushing against his own hand before he coated his fingers and held them up briefly for Sam to see. Dean moved slow, circling his slick fingers along the crease of Sam's ass before rubbing gently against the puckered skin of his entrance and then pushing his index finger inside.

Sam groaned and closed his eyes, feet braced flat on the bed as his knees dropped wide to each side.

"So beautiful Sam…."

Dean shifted his finger in and out, relishing the way Sam's body moved as he watched, drinking in every sound, every detail. He pulled out and on the next thrust pushed his middle finger in with the first earning another wanton moan from the younger boy.

As his fingers pushed inside again slow and deep, Dean leaned down and claimed Sam's mouth, his tongue moving in time with the thrust of his hand. As he pushed a third finger in and curled it inside, Sam broke the kiss as he head tilted back baring his neck, tendons straining along the smooth skin and Dean couldn't resist licking along the exposed flesh.

"Oh God Dean…mmmmGod…don't stop…"

Dean sucked hard, marking Sam's flesh and feeling the vibration under his lips from the sounds of pleasure the younger boy was making. Unable to wait any longer, every touch of his engorged cock against Sam's sweat slicked and heated body was sending tendrils of pleasure through him, Dean slid his fingers out and steadied himself over the younger boy.

His arm hurt like a bitch and his shoulder shook with the strain of his weight as he reached down and guided his cock against Sam's slick opening. Sam reached up and placed his hands on Dean's hips and Dean got lost in the dark slanted eyes that met his own.

"Want you Dean…"

Sam smiled up as the older boy hesitated, and he gripped Dean's hips barely resisting the urge to pull him down, pull him in. Sam's whole body was thrumming with need, anticipation and fear as he felt Dean press and then finally push inside him and he held his breath.

Sam knew it would hurt, he knew the tear and pressure pain so well and he clamped his jaw shut because he wouldn't cry out, he would never let Dean know because he still wanted this so badly and Dean wouldn't understand. How could Sam explain that the agony of sex paled in comparison to how Dean made him feel with his touch and his kisses and the way he looked at him with eyes that showed only love. Sam needed this connection much more than he feared the hurt, it was also a fair trade to assuage his happiness.

He knew there was no pleasure without pain.

As Dean moved closer, cock almost balls deep now, Sam opened his eyes wide and he forgot to breathe for seconds.

"Sam? Sammy what's wrong? Sam?"

He felt Dean pulling out and looked up into Dean's worried face as he gripped the older boy's arms and held him in place shaking his head.

"Nothing…I…feels good…doesn't hurt…it doesn't hurt."

"It's not supposed to baby."

"I…I didn't know…"

Dean gazed down at him, his body rocking so slowly. "Let me show you?"

Sam nodded, closing his eyes then as Dean began thrusting and he felt the pleasure begin to build within him at the sensation. Dean's cock pulled almost all the way out then slid in and rubbed against his prostrate in a tortuous deliberate rhythm that made him gasp and whimper, wanting more and harder and faster.

Every nerve deep in his groin seemed to be tingling in a sweet spiral of ecstasy that was climbing higher and higher as Dean continued his slick push pull, dragging over the sensitive nub within him on each thrust and making his ass clench.

He pushed up into Dean's body and lifted his leg to wrap around the older boy's hip, foot pressing against Dean's ass as he began to match each roll and grind with his own.

"Oh fuck Sam…so tight…"

Dean plundered his mouth as their movements quickened, Sam swallowing Dean's tongue deep in his mouth as he sucked hungrily. His leg dropped back to the bed and suddenly Dean's hand was between them, pressing down between the damp flesh of their hips and circling his weeping shaft which was rock hard again.

Sam cried out, his mouth pulling away as he gasped in pleasure at the clench and release of pressure from Dean's hand, up and down and driving him into a frenzy. There was nothing else now but the need for sweet release, his body just moving and grinding in desperation.

"Dean…nnngh…fuck…mmmm…"

The heat coursed up from between his thighs, balls tightening almost painfully before jolts of pleasure shot through his shaft, making his hips stutter and shake. As he felt Dean's fingers press into the dip beneath the crown of his cock, his ass pushed down forcefully, impaling himself deep as his body bowed up off the bed in orgasm.

Dean felt the sweat running down his face, stinging his eyes and he couldn't help the way his hips began thrusting harder, driving his cock deeper into Sam's tight body. The younger boy was gasping underneath him, thighs and ass tightening and moving so good against him. The hot friction and sweet clench around his cock was close to mind blowing.

His own desire was fuelled not only by the physical pleasure between them but by Sam's responses, and he revelled in the way the younger boy had given himself over to this, held nothing back. The fact that Sam had expected pain had shocked him briefly but had only made him more determined to replace that fear with enjoyment, with understanding that this was about honesty and consent not force.

Dean rolled his hips hard, hand twisting and fingers stroking the hard cock in his hand. He felt Sam's body push against him, the younger boy's legs widened as he arched up and then Dean's shaft was squeezed and pumped as Sam's muscles spasmed around him impossibly tight and hot and too good.

As he felt the warm slick of Sam's release between them, Dean drove in to the tight heat once more, his own cock pulsing hard as his cum filled Sam and their bodies rocked and shuddered together.

"God Sam…mmmm…fuck…" Dean's cry of pleasure ended in a long groan as he was lost in the heat and ecstasy.

As the movements between them became gentler, a slow synchronised thrust and grind as they enjoyed the pleasurable aftershocks of their passion, Dean lowered his body until his mouth found Sam's lips. As he brushed their mouth's together, their eyes locked and Sam opened his lips once more to take the older boy's tongue inside.

The kiss was long and languid, panting breaths and soft murmurs as their hands caressed each other's naked flesh.

Dean placed a last firm kiss to Sam's forehead before slowly moving back and letting his spent cock fall from Sam's body as he kneeled between his legs.

Sam made a small moan as he felt Dean move out of him, the warmth of the older boys cum trickling out of his opening and he smiled into Dean's gaze, too blissed out to move.

"God Sam…that was amazing…so good…" Dean shook his head and added softly. "Never felt like that before."

"Yeah…" Sam frowned and sat up, shivering a little as the movement chilled his sweat soaked body.

"What's wrong?" Dean began to worry. "Did I do something…?"

"God Dean your arm, it's bleeding…I forgot about it…I must've…"

"Sam shhh it's okay…" Dean laughed in relief although he now noticed the bandage was soaked through with red. "I forgot about it too."

"We need to clean it and change the dressing and…"

Dean could see Sam's brain was going into overdrive and he covered Sam's mouth with his own, swallowing down the younger boy's protests until they stopped.

"Better?"

Sam grinned and nodded. "I just…I just don't want you to be hurt anymore."

An hour later showered and exhausted they lay on the bed together, Sam tucked against Dean's right side. Sam's fingers lightly traced the bruised skin below the clean bandage on Dean's arm.

"I never knew being with someone could be like that Dean…so good and so…perfect."

"Yeah it was Sam…it was like we…I don't know…like we fit."

Sam laughed. "Well we did."

"You know what I mean." Dean huffed and rolled his eyes in mock exasperation before tilting Sam's chin up and getting his attention. "You thought it would hurt you but you didn't say anything…you need to tell me if you're worried about…stuff. I want you to talk to me."

Sam dropped his eyes. "It…it didn't matter to me, I just wanted to be with you. I trusted you."

"I know Sam and you have no idea how much that means to me. But you getting hurt also matters y'know?"

Sam nodded still unable to meet Dean's gaze. How could he begin to explain that pain had been in his life for so long it was a part of him. How the hell would Dean understand his need to negate the guilt for the happiness he now felt. Sam didn't really understand it himself but he felt the need building within him already, the certainty that if he didn't balance the burden of his pleasure something bad would happen.

Dean could feel a satisfied drowsiness envelope him and he sighed in resignation as he pulled Sam in closer. He kissed the younger boy, feeling Sam's hand move over his heart as his kiss was returned.

"How bout we get some sleep?"

"Yeah. Your arm okay?"

"Bit sore but hell it was so worth it."

"Dean…okay I'm not gonna argue with that."

"Get some sleep Sammy."

Sam smiled at the use of the nickname and he realised he hadn't even noticed when Dean started using it but it felt okay. It felt right for the first time in a long time and he could almost hear his brother's voice echo it as the older boy spoke to him. He curled in against the warmth of Dean's body.

"You too Dean."

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It was hours later when Sam woke startled and gasping with images of claws and hands and blood chasing him from the depths of sleep. For a brief second he forgot where he was and his hand froze as he reached out to the sleeping form beside him when he realised it was Dean not Emmett next to him in the dim glow of the streetlights through the curtain.

His senses reeled as reality hit him unannounced and his heart pumped hard and painfully in his chest as he battled to regain his composure. His mouth was dry and his bladder was full and he climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb Dean as he padded naked to the bathroom.

As he washed his hands and then drank from his cupped palm under the tap, Sam caught his reflection in the mirror as his eyes adjusted fully to the near darkness. He was just a shadow in the mirror, a darker piece of dark in the glass and he looked away quickly in case the claws and hands were somehow in there too. In case he saw Emmett's face watching him, screaming.

He stepped back into the room, eyes searching for his discarded clothes and hands shaking as he picked up the crumpled denim, searching them briefly before letting them fall back to the floor.

Sam stood in the room, fingers curling around the metal of his pocketknife as he watched Dean sleep. The memory of how Dean had made love to him and kissed him collided with the image of Emmett's face as his life was ebbing away in Sam's arms, so much blood.

He was happy and Emmett was dead.

A tear slid down Sam's face as the emotions began to overwhelm him and the feeling that he was slipping, falling away, made him physically sway on his feet. Sam didn't know how to fix himself, had no idea how to express this pain or explain it to anyone in words.

All he knew was how to make it go away for a while.

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_a/n: Nearly at the end of the road now!_


	13. Chapter 13

**Rating**: NC17  
**Warnings**: Eventual Sam/Dean, Non Con, Rape, Prostitution, Angst,  
Sam and Dean aren't brothers in this …*blinks*…that's a first for me!  
**Summary**: Dean hunts the Supernatural, Sam survives on the street...then their worlds collide.

**Final Chapter**

**Chapter 13**

Sam methodically pulled the thin grey sweat pants up over his slim hips before he pressed a towel against the gap between the door and tiles and turned the dim bathroom light on. He sat down on the tiles then, back against the cold porcelain of the bath and knees bent as he let his head roll back briefly onto his shoulders.

He had needed the light on. Not only to chase away the shadows that still threatened to spill over from his nightmare but so he could see the blood. This was about both feeling the pain take away his guilt and watching as it seeped out of his skin.

The small knife felt like an extension of his hand and his eyes traced over the worn name on its hilt, the letters of his brother's name always managing to bring the image back crystal clear of the day he had been given his own pocketknife just like the one he now held. His tenth birthday – the day his family has died.

A lifetime ago.

Almost without thinking Sam slid the blade through the smooth flesh on the inside of his bicep, drawing a deep straight line down the skin. The blood spilled dark red and quickly, following the movement of the knife and then running past the metal to pool in the crease of his elbow before dripping down his arm.

A soft groan escaped him as the raw ache of the cut began to dig in and pound with his heartbeat but not nearly as much as he needed. He moved the knife further underneath his arm and cut almost blindly, parallel to the first, both the knife and his hand now slicked with red.

Better that was better. It was like the grief in his head had become the throb in his arm and he needed to make sure he didn't let it pass too easily because that would be wrong. That would be like saying it didn't mean as much as it should if the pain was too easy to bear.

Sam was panting through the pain now and he let it take up his whole mind for minutes before it began draining away. His thoughts wandered back to when Michael had last cut him and he felt ashamed at how much he had needed it then and still needed it now as his fingers traced the healing scar on his chest.

He hated this, hated himself for needing this even though at the same time he knew he should stop. Sam couldn't really understand how Dean could want to be with him to start with but knew the older boy would leave him in disgust if he found out about this side of him that needed to be hurt.

As he stared at the unbroken flesh below the crease of his elbow, Sam decided this would be the last time. He would make the pain and confusion in his head go away and he wouldn't have to do this again.

Steeling himself he plunged the knife edge into the soft flesh without a further thought and gritted his teeth at the feel of metal eating and biting and tearing. Another line was drawn quickly because there always had to be two, side by side and even Sam didn't know why, just knew it had to be like that. It felt right.

His red slickened fingers slipped on the knife hilt as he finished the cut and the blade skittered to the side before clattering to the tiles. A spray of blood fell across his chest and pumped again before the spurt died away to a steady flow.

Sweat stung the cuts and they hurt so bad this time as his hand closed over the damaged skin pushing down, sliding through the blood and feeling the warmth trickle through his fingers. He sighed in relief as he watched the red and felt a calmness begin to seep into his mind.

Sam opened his eyes, not exactly sure when he had squeezed them closed, and everything seemed hazy. As he looked down, he inhaled sharply at the amount of blood covering his body, shocked by the endless red and wondering how it had happened so fast.

So much blood.

He panicked for a minute then, the cruel memory of Emmett's blood on him tormenting his already anguished heart before he came to his senses. It was his blood and he had done this to himself because he didn't deserve to be happy.

Everything had a price.

As sob escaped his lips and he shuddered as he wept for everything he had and everything he had lost. It was so much to deal with and he concentrated on the heavy ache that was running through his left arm, spiking clean and harsh when he clenched his hand into a fist, needing the intensity to clear away his thoughts.

It took another fifteen minutes before he was calm enough to think rationally again and by that stage Sam's body was shaking as a feeling of lethargy began to settle over him. Frowning in concentration as he folded the pocketknife and slipped it into the pocket of his bloodied sweat pants, Sam tried to move but his limbs had turned to lead.

He grunted in frustration as he half turned and used the edge of the bathtub to get his knees underneath him, a wave of dizziness making him stop and close his eyes. Sam winced as shockwaves of agony pulsed through his arm as it moved and blood rushed to the cuts. He had done it and it was over and now he just had to get cleaned up before Dean found him.

Sam took a breath and planted one foot on the floor and then pushed up off the bath with his right arm, trying to ignore the way his body shook with the effort. He had almost made it upright, had just lifted his knee to place his other foot on the ground when his first foot slid to the side on the blood wet tiles as his weight shifted.

Sam hardly reacted, his body already sluggish from blood loss, and he went down on his injured arm, head glancing the side of the bath as he fell.

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Dean woke up cold and moved across the bed instinctively seeking the heat that he knew he would find. Except he didn't.

He stretched instead and lazily opened one eye and then the second when the dim light of early morning proved it was bearable.

The room was quiet and still and he realised with growing alarm that except for where he lay the bed was cold, not how it would feel if someone had only recently left its covers. He sighed at the closed bathroom door and strained to hear any sounds, stilling for nearly half a minute before he couldn't wait any longer.

Grabbing his boxer shorts along the way he slid them on before knocking softly on the door. "Hey Sam you okay? "Sam?"

Dean wasn't waiting any longer and went to open the door but it only moved half an inch before it stuck. The small gap that appeared briefly was enough to make Dean's heart stop and he shouldered the door then kicked it twice, the bath towel on the floor in the end no match for brute force.

"Sammy?"

It took Dean seconds before he stepped forward and dropped to his knees beside Sam's prone and motionless body. There was blood everywhere.

"Sammy?"

Almost afraid to find out, Dean's hand hovered over the side of the younger boy's neck before feeling along the clammy skin. He didn't realise he had been holding his breath until he let out a sob of relief when he felt a pulse under his fingertips.

"Thank God."

Dean's brain kick started before he had even finished processing the how and why as he gently turned Sam onto his back, trying to find the source of the bleeding.

There was a small gash and an egg sized bump on Sam's forehead just below his hairline that was already bruised and purple. Dean's eyes were then drawn to Sam's left arm which had been hidden beneath him but now lay in plain sight and obviously the source of the blood.

"Oh fuck Sam what have you done?"

Dean's pleading whisper went unanswered as he grabbed a towel off the rack behind him and wrapped it around Sam's arm and pressed into the still seeping cuts. Holding the towel with one hand he checked Sam's pulse again just to make sure because he wouldn't let this boy slip away now. Not without one hell of a fight.

He brushed his hand across the younger boy's forehead, moving the unruly brown strands off his face and waiting, wanting to see those dark hazel eyes look at him again.

"C'mon Sam, you need to wake up kiddo or I'm gonna have to get you to a hospital."

The threat was real enough, it was a waiting game now. Dean knew there would be too many questions, Sam was under eighteen and had obviously self injured himself which meant shrinks and possibly cops. Dean didn't want to put him through that if he didn't have to but unless Sam started to improve he would have no choice because it wasn't worth risking Sam's life.

He could stitch the cuts, treat the probable concussion but he couldn't fix severe blood loss and shock and right now he knew they were close to that line.

Dean looked around again at the blood and suddenly he had to move, get Sam out of here. He folded Sam's injured arm across the boy's body, careful to make sure the towel stay firmly wrapped before he bent down and scooped Sam into this arms. His own injury made itself known with the exertion but he didn't care and Sam was far too light, far too thin anyway.

Placing the younger boy gently on the bed, he quickly folded the cover back over the still body to try and maintain some body heat. He felt for a pulse again before he sat down on the bed to wait, carefully pulling Sam against him as he pressed against the towel again.

"C'mon Sammy, I need you here." Dean bent and pressed his lips to the side of Sam's forehead, careful of his injury. "Please."

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Dean was on the verge of packing Sam in the Impala and driving him to the hospital. Sam had warmed up a little and the blood flow had stopped but he was worried there was something else wrong and his fingers hadn't left Sam's heart in over twenty minutes.

He had closed his eyes, the war raging in his head about what to do was taking all his concentration which was why he missed the first flutter of eyelids. It was the small groan and movement against his body that snapped him back to the room and the boy within his arms.

"Sam…oh thank God."

Sam began to breathe hard and struggle as his eyes opened, still heavy lidded and dazed. "Wh...Dn…Dean?"

"Yeah s'okay, you're okay."

He watched as the younger boy squinted at him, wincing in pain when his hand touched the bump on his head. "What…?" Sam paused then, eyes widening as he frowned and then looked down at himself before he seemed to withdraw, looking down and away and then struggling to move from within Dean's arms.

Dean held on until Sam whimpered as though in pain and then he let his hands slide from around the younger boy, not wanting to panic him more than he seemed to be already.

"Hey it's alright Sam. I've got you, it's okay. I just…I want you to…I need…"

I need you to tell me why you tried to kill yourself Sam. I need to know why you couldn't talk to me and let me help you. I need to know how the fuck to help you because I've got nothing right now. The thoughts and questions swirled in his mind but Dean couldn't say them out loud as he watched Sam shift away across the bed, curling in on himself like he could make himself disappear.

"M'sorry…m'sorry…m'sorry…"

"There's nothing to be sorry about Sam. I'm just…let me check your arm okay?"

Dean got up and fetched a dampened cloth and then gauze, tape and a clean bandage before walking around and sitting beside Sam. The younger boy stared into nothing and didn't react as Dean placed a hand on his shoulder.

"C'mon sit up a bit for me. Let me help you."

Sam didn't reply but complied slowly with Dean's request, letting the older boy steady him as he slid back to lean against the headrest. Dean began unwinding the towel from Sam's arm, wincing in sympathy as it stuck a little to the gore underneath.

"I'm gonna clean this up and bandage it properly in a minute. Looks like the bleeding's nearly stopped but I think I'm gonna have to stitch a couple of these cuts."

Dean frowned at the tremble in Sam's arm as he held it, kicking himself for not thinking of how much it must be hurting. "Prop your arm on here for a minute." He gently laid the injured limb onto a pillow making sure the exposed cuts weren't touching anything before he walked over to the med kit once more then moved on to his duffel bag cursing quietly.

"Sam I'm no doctor but I really don't want to give you Ibuprofen after you've lost so much blood…plus I need you to stay awake for a bit okay. I know it hurts and I can't find any Tylenol which would probably be okay but..." Dean knew he was rambling. "...this is all I got."

Sam stared at the whiskey before he reached out and grasped the neck of the bottle and tipped it to his lips, grateful the older boy didn't release his hold. He grimaced as the liquid burnt hot and bitter down his throat and closed his eyes as the warmth began to spread out through his system. He took another two gulps only opening his eyes when Dean gently pulled the bottle away and placed it on the nightstand.

Dean hesitated then not because of the wound, he had dealt with far worse and although the younger boy was weak from blood loss and concussion he seemed to be out of danger.

It was more the sense of déjà vu that whispered into his consciousness at how many times he had done this over the years and it was beginning to feel like it would never stop. The blood would never run dry.

"Just do it."

Sam's voice, low and lifeless brought Dean's focus back and he ran the back of his hand along Sam's cheek, grateful to hear the younger boy speak but saddened at the raw, hard edge in his voice.

As much as he needed to care for the physical wound that was laid open and bloodied before him, Dean also knew the need was just as important to get Sam to open up. He knew that unless Sam could talk to him, the younger boy would just retreat again emotionally. Dean could already see it start to happen and he was reminded of how bad Sam had been when he had first found him.

The progress Sam had made in the week Dean had known him was a big deal. He had dealt with so much in that small space of time and had trusted Dean with so much and the older boy took none of that for granted. However it would be naïve of him to think that a week could really heal the emotional scars and wounds that Sam carried from years of neglect and abuse.

Dean knew only too well how hard it was to deal with grief and not let yourself just shut down. All things considered, he was an expert on the subject of what not to do.

"Why did you do this Sam? I need you to tell me, I want to understand." He spoke softly, hating to ask this now but knowing he had to get Sam talking.

Sam tightened his jaw, eyes fixed down but not really focused on anything. He could hear Dean, feel the older boy's touch but the shame of what he had done seemed too big to bear and Sam didn't have a clue where to start even if a part of him did want to explain.

Dean cleaned the cuts and then stitched in three places where the skin was sliced deep. His fingers were firm and gentle as he worked, cleaning, stitching and then finally bandaging the wounds after wiping the fresh blood off with a whiskey soaked cloth. He began to wonder what Sam had used to hurt himself.

Sam had remained mostly silent throughout the procedure except for the involuntary gasps of pain which were bitten back as soon as they hit the air. It had taken all of Dean's strength to keep going and by the end he felt desperate to fix this, fix Sam.

"Don't do this Sam. Don't shut me out now."

Dean placed his hand gently on Sam's uninjured arm and slid his fingers down to grasp the younger boy's hand in his own.

"When I started hunting again on my own after...after Dad and Jared were killed...I was angry and it hurt too much to think about them. I was careless, reckless about getting hurt because I didn't care, all I had was a choice between one kind of pain or another. I chose the physical pain and the certainty that one day it would get me killed."

Dean swallowed and exhaled slowly. "It's weird y'know, I couldn't take my own life because... hell I don't even know why I didn't... but death by demon or spirit or whatever I came up against was fine by me. So don't think I won't understand Sam but don't think I'll just sit by and watch you kill yourself either."

"I wasn't trying." Sam's voice was whisper soft.

Dean leaned back against the headboard alongside Sam, still grasping his hand and waiting, hoping he would continue.

"I...I...it's not right. I just wanna make it right...but I can't...it's not enough."

"What's not enough Sam?"

It was minutes before Sam spoke and Dean had started thinking he wasn't going to get an answer but then he felt the fingers he held within his own, move and curl around his hand as though Sam needed something to hold onto.

"The pain."

And Dean suddenly understood, he remembered what it felt like when the crushing agony of grief was blessedly overwhelmed and pushed aside briefly by the screaming of his own injured body. The peace that only came when the pain was so bad he shook from the shock of it.

"You don't deserve the pain Sam, you don't need to make amends. You've been through enough."

"You don't understand." Sam's voice was wrecked, a hollow whisper.

"Yes I do. Nothing you do is gonna bring Emmett back and this guilt you have because you're here and he's not...it's not what he would've wanted for you. He wanted you to be happy Sam."

"Don't you tell me what he would've wanted, you don't..." Sam began to pull away, shaking with emotion until Dean spoke.

"He told me."

Sam went still so Dean continued.

"He wanted you to go with him when he left for Seattle but he knew you wouldn't, he asked me to make sure you were okay." Dean grinned sadly. "He thought of you like a big brother Sam."

"Emm...he trusted me and I watched him die in my arms…he never got to go home. Why should I be allowed to move on?" Sam's eyes finally turned upwards and Dean met and held his gaze.

"Because...because sometimes you find something along the way that makes it hurt a bit less and makes you feel like you want to live so their memory doesn't die. Sometimes you find someone that makes you want to reach out again even though you're scared as hell and don't think you deserve to be happy."

Sam knew Dean was talking about himself and he couldn't stop the sob escape his lips when he remembered how much Dean had lost as well. Tears streaming down his face, Sam leant into the warm body next to him and buried his face in Dean's chest thankful when he felt strong arms wrap around him.

"Don't let go."

"I won't Sam."

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Dean tilted his head back slightly and rolled his shoulders as much as he could with his hands melded to the steering wheel and a bandage still encasing his upper arm. He could feel the tension and worry slipping away much like the dusty road left in the wake of the Impala's wheels.

He had been driving now for three days and he had forgotten how much it soothed his soul.

He glanced to the passenger seat and smiled, still surprised and a little incredulous every time he saw Sam sitting there. The younger boy was somehow folded almost sideways in sleep, long legs twisted and body curled so his head rested into the seat facing Dean.

Unable to help himself, he ran the back of his knuckles down the side of Sam's face and was rewarded with a blink of dark eyes and a sleepy smile.

"Hey we there yet?" Sam voice was sleep rough as he untangled himself and sat around his seat, squinting through the windscreen into the late afternoon sun.

"Are we there yet? How old are you Sam?" Dean laughed and shook his head. "Nearly, maybe another hour. Thought we'd better stop off and eat first, I'm pretty sure there's no corner store where we're headed.

Sam nods, his face turning serious. "Thanks for doing this…it means a lot to me."

"Yeah, it kinda means a lot to me too Sam."

An hour and forty minutes later Dean parked the car to the side of a sandy track that led up to a cliff face overlooking the ocean. They sat for a minute in the fading light before Dean reached across and drew the younger boy against him and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"You okay, you ready for this?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah…I…it's just I know he's gone Dean but…but this is hard."

"Yeah it is and I know it hurts but he's always gonna be here with you." Dean placed his hand over Sam's heart.

A single tear slid down Sam's face but he smiled and laced his fingers into Dean's hand before he pressed his lips against the older boy's mouth.

Dean let himself be drawn in and he felt Sam sigh against him as the younger boy's hands tenderly cupped his face in a gesture that made his heart swell. He deepened the kiss briefly as his passion flared bright in that instant but he pulled back, knowing this wasn't the time.

They had to finish this and hopefully then, Sam would find some peace.

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**Three days earlier.  
**  
They had finally been leaving the motel and Dean hadn't realised how stir crazy he was until he slid behind the wheel of the Impala and keyed the ignition. He was glad to be leaving this place, he needed to be gone and on the road and just fucking moving again, glad that Sam was with him.

The younger boy was still unsteady and unsure, his grief still strong and far from managed but at least they had each other. At least Sam was reaching out and letting Dean help him stumble a little further out of the darkness each time he sank down into it.

Dean was eager to get gone and he soaked up the rumble of the engine, let it course through him like adrenaline. He opened his eyes after half a minute when the passenger door didn't open as he expected, frowning as Sam hesitated on the curb beside the car. Dean's heart sank a little as he turned the engine off, worried that Sam had suddenly changed his mind about coming with him, staying with him.

He got out and moved around behind the younger boy, sliding his arms around Sam's hips and clasping his hands, resting his chin gently on Sam's shoulder and leaning his head into the soft brown strands.

"Talk to me."

"I don't want to leave him there…"

"Sam?"

"I know I never got him home but…Dean I can't just leave him there. I can't…"

Dean closed his eyes and tightened his embrace, it hurt him each and every time Sam sounded so lost.

"S'okay Sam, we won't leave him there."

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Dean had checked up on the case over the last few days in the motel as they had both healed and wrapped themselves around each other. It was standard operating procedure as a hunter to make sure he had left nothing behind that would have the cops on his tail or waiting in ambush when he pulled over in the next town. It was more a priority this time to make sure that Sam had not been seen or implicated in any way that would tag him as a suspect in a triple murder investigation.

His heart was heavy when he read the coroner's report indicating cause of death on the young John Doe had been a fatal stab wound that had punctured the heart. Dean had kept the details to himself until Sam had asked one night what would happen to Emmett's body.

Sam deserved the truth and Dean had tried to be gentle, reminding the younger boy that it wasn't really Emmett anymore but it had sounded lame even to his own ears and he had cried along with Sam at the wrongness of it. Dean had made a call the next day and anonymously provided Emmett's real name but in the end he knew no one would come forward which meant that a state cremation would take place and there would be no one there to grieve.

Sam had somehow managed to draw enough strength to speak to Emmett's relatives and told them the news but they had asked him not to identify them. Taking Emmett into their home was apparently one thing but becoming involved in the murder of a related prostitute was something entirely different. Sam had nodded and ended the call and hadn't been able to talk to Dean for hours.

That had been a bad night. Dean still remembered prying the pocketknife from Sam's shaking hands and sitting for hours on the floor of the bathroom as Sam had begged Dean to understand. Pleaded to be cut just a little, just enough to make the pain go away for a while.

Dean didn't have the heart to tell Sam it probably never would entirely so he just held him tighter and kissed him hard like he could take some of the hurt away by sheer will and determination.

When Sam finally broke down, sorrow and anger and self loathing flooding his senses, Dean had been there to pick up the pieces. When Sam had shook with grief and want and needed Dean's mouth and body on him, in him, Dean had marked Sam's skin with his lips and rocked inside him until they were both too exhausted to feel anything.

It made Dean realise he would willingly do anything, be anything Sam needed.

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It hadn't been difficult. A suit, a badge and an easy smile pretty much worked in most situations and this was no different.

Except it seemed a hell of a lot different when he walked back to the car and carefully handed Sam the small silver urn that held Emmett's ashes. It felt like he'd been sucker punched.

Dean drove for forty eight minutes before the road blurred and his jaw ached from biting back on his own guilt so Sam wouldn't have to see it. He finally pulled over and sat staring out the windscreen, gulping in air like he hadn't taken a breath in weeks.

"Dean? Dean its okay…you did it. Thank you."

Sam placed the urn on the dashboard and moved across the seat, watching the older boy try and regain control.

"It's gonna be okay." Sam hand slid around the nape of Dean's neck.

"Fuck Sam if I…if I had done my job he'd still be alive. I screwed up…"

Dean slammed his hand against the steering wheel once, twice and then again until Sam's fingers wrapped around his wrist and held on, pulling Dean against him, almost thankful that for once he could give comfort instead of being the one always taking, always needing.

"No, you saved his soul Dean and you saved me…" Sam laughed bitterly. "….you're still saving me."

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**Present day  
**  
The sun was almost kissing the horizon and red orange light streamed out through the gaps in the scattered clouds as they walked up the track and finally stood at the top overlooking the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean.

The wind was gusty and Sam shivered in his t-shirt even though he didn't really feel the cold. He clutched the metal urn against his body with one hand, the other hand held in Dean's almost vice like grip.

Sam stared out across the white flecked water watching the whitecaps of the waves as they continually formed then disappeared on the whim of the wind and current.

The warmth of Dean's hand sliding across his back, then down to curl around his hip gave him strength and grounded him.

"I know…I know you never saw the ocean like you wanted to Emm…" Sam smiled as his vision blurred and hot tears began to slide from his eyes. "…you never saw Disneyland either but…but I thought you'd prefer the peace." Sam swallowed against the ache in his throat. "I wish you'd got the chance to grow up and have a home and family and friends and…I'm sorry…and God Emm I miss you so much…I…I can't…"

Dean felt Sam shake with sobs against him and he took a breath for Sam and looked out towards the horizon as he began to speak quietly. "I didn't know you for long Emmett but you were awesome kiddo. There aren't many people around that can rise above their circumstances and still keep their heart and humour intact but somehow you did. I know I let you down…let you both down… and if I could do anything to change that… change things back, I would."

Dean closed his eyes briefly as he felt Sam straighten beside him. "I want to thank you for looking out for Sam…we both know he's a stubborn ass but he does kinda grow on you. I want you to know that I'll look after him…I want you to know that …that I love him and both of you are always gonna have a place in my heart."

Dean turned to face Sam and gave him a small smile.

"I…I guess this is where we…" Sam's voice faltered as he looked down at the urn, his hand frozen on the smooth lid.

"This is where we let Emmett's spirit be at peace out there and in here." He placed his hand over Sam's heart briefly.

Sam nodded and pressed down on the lid as he turned it. Gently tipping the urn forward and down they silently watched as the ashes were taken by the wind out and over the edge where they stood, quickly disappearing in the waning light.

Leaning into the older boy Sam touched their foreheads together. "Thank you. I think…I think he would've…I think…"

"Yeah, he would've been happy with this."

"Is it okay if I meet you on the beach. I just want to walk down and…and I just need a minute."

"Sam?"

Sam could see the worry in the green eyes and he knew what Dean was thinking.

"No. No it's not that…I'm not gonna do anything…I just need…I just want to say a few more things before we go."

"Yeah Sammy…I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay." Sam kissed Dean's lips and had to pull away before he got lost in the warmth.

"I'll drive back down and meet you on the beach." Dean glanced up at the setting sun. "Be careful."

Sam nodded and began walking over to one of the sandy trails that wound down to the small rocky beach. As he walked along stepping over the overgrown grass and weeds that twisted beneath his feet, his mind wandered.

He knew this was it. This was the start of something new and fresh and the end of a part of his life that he had thought he would be lost in forever. All he had ever been was a child then a prostitute and he couldn't find anything else that defined who he was between those words.

This was the start of something new but he was still who he was…what he was. The words that Dean had spoken to Emmett moments ago replayed over and over in his head as he tried to see who he was in Dean's eyes and came up short.

A brand new life.

The words made his stomach twist and turn with bitter memories of broken trust and false hope and Sam stopped and looked back up the path at the way he had come. It wouldn't take him too long to retrace his steps back to the cliff top and just step off into oblivion where the fear couldn't follow him anymore.

Except that would mean leaving Dean behind.

Almost afraid of his own thoughts, Sam turned and stumbled forwards.

"Emm, I want to stay with him but I'm scared." Sam reached the beach and sank down in the crusty sand just above the water line. He sat and watched the waves crash on the sand and then slide along, foam and water reaching out like fingers until they sank back defeated by gravity and momentum. An endless cycle of roll and tumble that was beautiful in its clarity.

"He's a good person, you saw that too, but what if I fuck this up? What if he leaves me too…I couldn't…I can't go back…I'd rather die."

"Shhh Sammy don't say that. I'm never gonna leave you baby."

Sam heard Dean's voice seconds before he felt familiar strong arms wrap around his shoulders as Dean sat down behind him, as Dean wrapped him up in his warmth and safety.

"I'm sorry."

"I know. I get it." Dean took a deep breath and then kissed the side of the younger boy's neck. "God Sam I get it. I know you're scared…I know it's hard to trust someone with everything you are but I'll wait okay…I'll wait till you're ready and then I'll prove to you that I'm for real."

Sam folded his arms over Dean's and leaned back into the solid warmth that felt safe and strong and secure.

"Thank you for this…even just this, you holding me, makes me feel…I want to be with you, it's all I do want but…but I don't understand…Dean why do you want me to stay with you?"

Dean laughed, warm and low. "You don't see it do you? You don't see your own strength and goodness and light and…fuck Sammy when you smile…I can feel my heart beating. I feel like I want to live and I meant what I said before…I didn't even know until it was out of my mouth but I sure as hell know now…I love you." Dean laughed again. "I don't know how you got into my heart, I don't know how the hell you got past all my defences but yeah Sammy…I love you."

Sam shook his head, tears now streaming because Dean had just given him something priceless with those three words. "Dean I don't even know who I am, and the things I've done…all I know is that since I've met you, I feel real…not…not like some piece of dirt that doesn't matter. I feel like I belong with you…I…"

Sam felt it, he even knew it but he couldn't say it out loud. He knew he wanted to but it was too raw and too much to lay himself bare, nerves and skin and beating heart…just in case…because there was still that doubt… that piece of him that was terrified of what might happen if he uttered those three words back…it had been such a long time.

"Sam, what you had to do to survive doesn't matter to me. I can see your heart. Emmett knew, he knew who you were inside and I do too. Don't define yourself by the things you've done, look forward and I'm gonna be there every step Sammy. "

Sam laughed then and he felt like the weight of the world suddenly lifted off his shoulders. "So is that the speech you dust off for every pathetic loser you say you love?"

"Nah…only the stubborn ass ones."

"Well…I…I guess I'm really starting to believe you don't mind my stubborn ass." Sam's voice softened.

Dean's hand turned Sam's head around enough to he could press his lips against Sam's tear streaked face.

Sam closed his eyes then as he felt Dean's mouth skim over his cheek then eyelids and then along his jaw before brushing against his lips. Sam opened his mouth hungrily, moaning deep in his throat as Dean's tongue lapped inside his mouth.

They kissed passionately for minutes before parting on gasped breaths and small moans and Sam was pliant as Dean's sure hands moved him sideways a little so he still rested between the older boy's thighs but was now turned into Dean's chest.

"Yeah, your stubborn ass is mine Sammy. Don't you forget that."

Yeah…I'm good with that." Sam laughed softly against Dean's neck as his fingers traced down Dean's stubble rough jaw. "But what piece of you do I get?"

"Any piece of me you want Sam…I'm all yours."

Dean's whispered words made Sam's hands tighten his grasp on the older boy in reply and they sat listening to the sounds of the ocean, tasting the salt spray on their lips and sharing each other's warmth. Sharing each other's fears and strengths without uttering a word.

"Can we stay here tonight…just us…just this."

"Yeah, I'd like that." Dean grinned. "Except maybe a bit more of this…"

Dean nuzzled Sam's neck as he slid to the side and slowly lowered them both down on the sand, one arm still wrapped under the younger boy as his hand slid up under Sam's thin t-shirt.

Sam moaned at the sensations as Dean's hand moved over a peaked nipple and then began rubbing and twisting it between his fingers. Sam lowered his head until he found Dean's mouth and gently bit the older boys lips between his teeth before sucking them and sliding his tongue past them into the hot, wet heat.

Dean broke the kiss when he realised Sam was crying silently, tears trickling from his long lashes and falling across their kiss swollen lips.

"Sam?"

"I want to say it back Dean I do…but I just…I'm just…I…I'm sorry."

"Shhhh, hey it's okay. I didn't say it to make you feel like you had to…it's just…I needed to tell you. I needed to tell you because I didn't want to miss that chance...it's too easy to miss the chance and then…then it's too late. I never got to tell…I left it too late. M'not doing that again."

Sam felt himself pulled in tightly against Dean's body and a hundred thoughts seem to rush through his mind, colliding and jumbling inside his head of what they had both been through. He remembered feeling like this, he could still remember this feeling of being loved before…when everything had been good and safe and not hard…before his world had shattered into a million pieces.

He could feel his mom's hand on his face brushing the hair away and see the way his dad had smiled at him so proud and then he also remembered the way Emmett had made him feel like family. His mind replayed the way Dean had touched him and kissed him and made love to him. The way Dean just held him when he was lost and scared and bloodied.

Sam suddenly realised it was Dean that was pushing back the darkness and letting the light shine on the good things in his life and it burned through his veins and lit up his heart.

Dean had lost so much and he was scared as well but he was willing to take that leap of faith for Sam. Dean was willing to risk letting Sam into his life, into his heart with open arms and tender kisses.

Sam struggled against the fierce embrace, pushing against the older boy until he had enough space to search Dean's eyes in the waning sunset. He smiled shyly at Dean's look of surprise and worry and placed a quick kiss against his lips.

"Dean…Dean…"

"Yeah Sammy."

His name on Dean's lips, whisper soft and full of love sounded so much like home.

"Dean…I…I love you."

_0000000000000000000000000000_

THE END!

_a/n: I hope you enjoyed the journey and I thank you for reading. The wonderful comments and PM's along the way were very inspiring and I appreciate them all. I thank those people now that I didn't reply to because their message settings would not allow me to including Sarah, Andrea, Cathartes, Emma... and I've really enjoyed the wonderful PM conversations I have had with many of you.  
_

_*hugz*_


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